


Thunder Reborn

by Dogwolf12



Series: Thunder Erased [1]
Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Multi, No FireSandSpotted love triangle, No betas we die like warriors, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, ThunderClan left the forest instead of SkyClan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 36
Words: 41,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23818561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dogwolf12/pseuds/Dogwolf12
Summary: In a universe where ThunderClan territory was ravaged by Twolegs, Fireheart, a young SkyClan warrior, gets a dream from Redstar asking him to rebuild a lost Clan. But can he step up to the challenge?
Relationships: Barley/Ravenpaw (Warriors), Brightheart/Cloudtail (Warriors), Dustpelt/Ferncloud (Warriors), Firestar/Sandstorm (Warriors), Graystripe/Silverstream
Series: Thunder Erased [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716172
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue  
“They’re late.” Swiftstar unsheathed his claws in frustration, scraping them against the bare rock.“We can’t all start now,” Dawnstar pointed out mildly. “ThunderClan are valuable members of the forest and we should treat them as such.”  
“Birchstar, what do you think?”  
“I’m happy to wait awhile. The moon is still low now.”  
“I second that.” Cloudstar, the fourth leader, pointed out mildly. “ThunderClan are rarely late. It must be important.”

  
At that moment, Redstar burst through into Fourtrees, trailing a mass of cats beside him. Bedraggled elders, terrified kits, nervous apprentices and wary warriors fanned out behind him.  
“Redstar, what’s all this? You know that kits are too young to come to gatherings!”  
“I have no choice, Swiftstar. It was either that or let them get destroyed by Twolegs.”  
“Twolegs?” Birchstar interjected warily. “There has been increased activity but nothing camp-destroying.”  
Redstar’s eyes grew hollow. “They were enough to destroy our territory. Monsters are ringed around camp now. The territory is gone. We have one hope of survival; sharing territory with you.”  
Protest arose from the mingled cats.

  
“That’s all well and good to say, but our territories are stretched thin as they are. You can’t expect me to give up land and let WindClan kits starve!”  
“Swiftstar- I- “  
“And RiverClan would like to help, but prey runs thin here. Besides, ThunderClan isn’t exactly known for fishing.”  
“Our Clan is the largest,” Dawnstar replied. “We already struggle to fill cats’ bellies as is. I apologise, Redstar, but the territory isn’t big enough.”  
“I’m sorry, Redstar,” Cloudstar replied. “You would soon tire of feathers. I would like to offer you a place to stay; I would. But I simply can’t.”  
“Then do ThunderClan die out?”  
“No.” Swiftstar’s voice was cold. “You leave. And don’t steal our prey, or you’ll wish you’d never been kitted.”  
“So that’s it then? You’re going to abandon us in StarClan’s sight?”  
“StarClan has not sent clouds to cover the moon,” Birchstar replied. “We must take it as a sign that things change.”  
“What about the Warrior Code?”  
“It did not account for the Twolegs.”  
“Well. ThunderClan will travel alone from now on. We have seen the worth of your code of honour.”

  
“Wait!”  
“What is it, Sparkfur?”  
“My kits… they can’t travel.”  
“We have to go.”  
“I also can’t travel.” Another heavily pregnant queen stepped out of the crowd.  
“Silverclaw… we must.”  
Behind him, Redstar could faintly hear protest and anguish from his warriors, but he had to face forwards to look those who had destroyed him in the eye and ensure the fate of at least some of his Clan.  
“I’d be happy to take them. I cannot provide for your Clan, but two more queens can be accepted.” Cloudstar stated.  
“Well.” Redstar swallowed the lump in his throat. “You are willing to grant at least this.”  
“I am. May StarClan light your path, old friend.” Cloudstar called.  
“StarClan may light the path it pleases. ThunderClan’s path has obviously diverged from it.”  
With a flick of his tail, he led ThunderClan out of the hollow.

  
Many Seasons Later

  
To say Rusty was shocked to see the other two cats appear from behind Graypaw was an understatement.  
“Greetings, kittypet.” The cream-and-brown one mewed. “I am Leafstar.”  
The darker brown one grunted. “Sharpclaw.”  
“I am the leader of SkyClan, and we have been watching you,” Leafstar told him.  
Graypaw looked stunned. “Watching us?”  
“Didn’t Leafstar just say that?” Sharpclaw challenged the apprentice.  
Graypaw looked sheepish.

  
“We invite you to join us and see what Clan life is like.”  
“May I decide?” Rusty mewed.  
“Of course. You have until sunhigh tomorrow.”  
Tails waving, the SkyClan cats retreated into the forest.  
Rusty could only watch in fascination. A leaf caught the sunlight, drifting onto his nose. He would have to decide which life to choose, but he had a feeling he knew which he’d pick already.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart escapes a fire and gets a dream from Redstar.

The leaf and the scene suddenly evaporated into a smoky haze, swirling around Fireheart as he reminisced. He could still remember his first foray into the forest so vividly… wait, why was the smoke not disappearing?  
“Fire!” some cat yelled. His eyes snapped open to see an orange sheen light up SkyClan’s camp. Cats panicked, herding elders and kits away from the blaze. He rushed to do his part, leaving the awakening warriors to rouse their fellow warriors and heading to the apprentices’ den, where he prodded Swiftpaw awake.  
“Huh?” The apprentice moaned.  
“No time to wonder why. Get out of here!”  
“But what about Finchpa-“  
“I’ll wake her. Go!”  
True to his word, he prodded the young apprentice to her feet, giving her a shove towards the camp entrance. Satisfied that the den was clear, he raced out… only to find Tigerclaw with Leafstar, backing her against a blazing log, claws out.  
“Traitor!” He yowled, knocking Tigerclaw away. Leafstar, ever quick on the mark, joined in, backing the treacherous tabby against the blaze. The tabby was a skilled fighter, but he was no match for two cats. Finally, he overbalanced on one of Leafstar’s swipes, allowing Fireheart the opportunity to unbalance him, sending him into the flames. Yowling could be heard as they jumped away from the log, which had started to catch ablaze.  
“Fireheart…” Leafstar began. “…You were right.”  
“All that matters is that he’s dead now. Let’s leave before we meet the same fate.”  
They raced out of camp, jumping over the remains of the elders’ den as they raced to exit. Finally, they ended up near RiverClan territory, where cats milled about the banks uncertainly, though the RiverClan cats did not seem hostile.  
“Fireheart!” A ginger shape broke out of the crowd, rushing towards him with relief in her eyes.  
“Sandstorm!” He cried, as he was bowled over by her. She didn’t pause for a moment even as she moved off him.  
“Never scare me like that again, Fireheart. I don’t want to lose you.”  
“I don’t want to lose you, either.”  
“Then it’s settled. You don’t be a stupid mange-pelt, and I won’t.”  
He chuckled, causing Sandstorm to cuff him around the ears.  
Graystripe rushed over, eyes full of terror and elation, but before he could talk, Leafstar jumped onto a large rock at Sunningrocks, calling her Clan over.  
“Cats of SkyClan, I have discovered a traitor in our midst. During the fire, Tigerclaw took the opportunity to attack me. As temporary deputy during Sharpclaw’s injury, he must have believed that he was going to be my successor. Fireheart noticed the attack and we managed to drive him into the flames.”  
“Fireheart! Fireheart!” The crowd chanted. Goldenflower, however, looked nervous, touching a tailtip to her belly.  
“Sharpclaw is still being treated for the injury sustained on patrol, however Echofur is confident that he will regain his voice in less than a quarter-moon.”  
Fireheart took the time to remember Sharpclaw’s injury; found fallen from a tree onto a rock after a hunt with Tigerclaw. Leafstar then had brushed off his concerns.  
“Were there any casualties?”  
“There is believed to be one. Cloudwatcher was unaccounted for. We will need to search camp to confirm this.”  
Finchpaw, beside Swiftpaw, gave a small yowl of grief. Fireheart pitied her; he wouldn’t like to lose a father, either.  
However, the sun was slipping below the horizon, and as SkyClan shared tongues with RiverClan and each other, Fireheart found solace in Sandstorm’s company, play-wrestling and joking together. If I’d have told my apprentice-self that that would happen, he mused, then I would have been shoved towards the medicine den for treatment.  
“What’s so funny?” he was asked by Sandstorm, wearing a smile on her ginger face.  
“Oh, I was just thinking about what would have happened if our past selves knew what we were doing.”  
Sandstorm laughed. “Yeah, I probably would have thrown a fit if someday a cat had told me that I’d have a … want to be friends with you.”  
Fireheart smiled back. He was pleased that the she-cat had given him a chance to become friends, but as he looked at her again, at her humour, her wit, her skill to feed the Clan… he couldn’t help but blush a bit. They remained there for a second before Sandstorm told a joke about the Sunningrocks. Forgetting their earlier pause, they roared with laughter.  
That was, until Graystripe arrived.  
“Fireheart… may we go somewhere private?”  
“Oh?” Fireheart cocked his ears. He knew that his friend had been seeing Silverstream, so he would have expected his friend to be with the pretty silver she-cat.  
“It’s important.”  
Fireheart took the cue, giving Sandstorm one last smile before slipping away.  
In a reed bed, Graystripe finally let out a breath.  
“Fireheart… Silverstream and I either made the best or worst mistake of our lives.”  
“Oh, great StarClan. She isn’t pregnant, is she?”  
“She is.”  
“Oh, Graystripe. I wish I could help. But your fates are up to Leafstar and Crookedstar… and whether you choose to claim these kits.”  
“I will always be there for my kits.”  
“I wish you could be. The trouble is whether our leaders will admire your spirit.”  
Graystripe looked dejected. His face shone in the moonlight as they both sat there, the weight of the kits pressing heavy upon them.  
“Have you seen Ravenpaw lately?” Fireheart asked abruptly, hoping to change the subject.  
“No. He must be lonely out there.”  
“Yeah, just him and the mice. Maybe now that Tigerclaw’s dead and gone, he’d like to come back?”  
“Maybe. We’ll have to ask him when we see him.”  
Fireheart sat in silence with his oldest forest friend, letting the reeds wave around them for a moment before he padded away, leaving the solid gray tom to his thoughts. He was exhausted after the events of the fire but didn’t feel he’d be able to settle in RiverClan, despite his Clanmates stationed there. Trotting over the stepping-stones, he crossed a bridge over the gorge separating WindClan from RiverClan until at last he came to Fourtrees. Tucking himself amidst the roots of one of the four great oaks, he slept.

“Fireheart…” Whispers came from around him, although he was unsure whether they were whispers or whether it was merely the wind that buffeted his fur.  
“Y-Yellowfang?” He called, to no reply. A wail emanated from the distance somewhere in the featureless maelstrom. It wasn’t defiant, like he’d imagined that Spottedleaf or Yellowfang had let out in their last moments, both fighting traitors to the code. It sounded more like Mottledpelt when Eaglekit had died, leaving only Cherrykit and Sparrowkit behind.  
“Hello? Anyone?”  
The whispers rose in volume. If he strained, he could hear snippets of conversation.  
“…I’m cold…”  
“…We will not leave you here for the foxes!”  
“…star, what do we do?”  
“…press on…”  
“…I wanna go home!”  
The hazy shapes of cats formed around him, mouthing and wailing. Fireheart couldn’t bear it anymore, frantically searching for somewhere to run. Something reddish was up in the distance, and he hastened toward it, the circle of mist-cats letting him pass.  
“What is this place?” He implored the shape, screeching to a halt as he stared at the figure. The red cat was made of a smoky substance like the others, but he wasn’t wailing, instead regarding Fireheart with a detached curiosity. Amber eyes fixed on Fireheart’s own green ones, as though assessing him.  
“Where are we?” He again prompted the cat.  
“We are nowhere.”  
“What does that mean?”  
“We have been forgotten, young warrior. We are nowhere.”  
“Forgotten? But I still have Sandstorm, and Graystripe, and Cl- “  
“Not you, mouse-brain. Us.”  
“Who are you, then?”  
“We are the Fifth Clan. We are ThunderClan.”  
“ThunderClan? But there are only four…”  
“There were five, long ago. Sky, Wind, Shadow, River… and Thunder.”  
“But what happened? Why did everyone forget you?”  
“We were driven out.”  
“Driven out? By whom?”  
“The Twolegs and your other Clans. They came with their monsters and tore the forest down. Everything.”  
Fireheart bristled with shock. He could remember vividly the acrid monster-smoke that surrounded Tigerclaw when he dragged Yellowfang’s clawed and beaten body into camp, claiming that ShadowClan had conducted a Thunderpath raid and had taken her life. He could hardly imagine those same creatures bursting into a camp, destroying everything…  
“That sounds horrible.”  
“It was.” The cat took on a faraway look.  
“But why bring me here?”  
“Simple. We believe that you could help to restore the fifth Clan.”  
“Restore the Clan? Leave my home?”  
“We understand, it will be a large decision for you. But bear in mind, young warrior, that you do not have to leave alone.”  
“I… I don’t know what to do.”  
“Decide, then.”  
“I don’t even know what your name is!”  
“It’s Redstar. And no matter what path you take, I wish you nothing but fortune.”  
Redstar evaporated, leaving Fireheart in Fourtrees.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yellowfang sends Fireheart a dream, and Fireheart examines the ruins of the ThunderClan camp.

Ghostly moonlight lit the clearing as Fireheart awoke. Cats sat around him, watching four figures on the Great Rock. Except for one group. Fireheart recognised Redstar amongst the figures on the ground. Stop! He begged silently. Can’t I just be another SkyClan warrior? Redstar spoke, turning to leave.  
But two cats had moved away from the group. One had two small kits dangling from her jaws, while the other was heavily pregnant, looking as though she belonged in the nursery rather than here. Fireheart observed them walking to a white cat on the rock, asking the leader something. He nodded, and his cats moved aside to welcome the pair into their ranks. But there was a disturbance from the group – as Fireheart swivelled around, he could see a pair of toms in the crowd sobbing, begging Redstar for something. Lost in the hubbub, Redstar seemed to ignore them.   
Fireheart was frozen. What if that had been Sandstorm? What if I was forced to leave a family behind, to go into the unknown?  
“Luckily for you, Fireheart, you don’t have to leave a family behind.” The ancient cats disappeared into mist; Fireheart turned to face his company.  
“Yellowfang!” The long-furred she-cat nodded, smiling. She looked… young. She had never looked this carefree in life.  
“You look well.” He remarked.  
“StarClan generally tends to make cats look well, Fireheart.”   
“Why are you here? Why am I seeing this? I’ve already heard Redstar.”  
“Some members of StarClan want the status quo; they would rather that four clans existed instead of five. Others, including me, disagree.”  
“But why would I leave my Clan? Why would I leave Sandstorm, Graystripe, Cloudpaw?”  
“Whoever said you had to leave them?”  
“I… I don’t understand, Yellowfang.”  
“Fireheart, I love you like a son and I wish you were my son instead of Brokenstar, but you are denser than a stone.”  
“You wish…?”  
“I believe I just said that. We have a lot to catch up upon.”  
“We do.”   
“Now, I’ll spell it out for you, mouse-brain. You don’t have to leave your chosen family. You can bring them along.”  
“What if they don’t leave?”  
“Fireheart, your nephew looks up to you more than anyone in the forest. Graystripe is your best friend and would follow you to the ends of the world; besides, it will offer him and Silverstream a chance to start anew. And Sandstorm… just confess already. There’s a betting pool on when you two will get together, for the founders’ sake!”  
“There… there is?”  
“Yes. Onto less happy things… Fireheart, it was me who killed Brokenstar.”  
“I know.”  
“You do? How?”  
“I watched.”  
“Oh, Fireheart, I’m sorry…”  
“Don’t be. You birthed him, but you didn’t cause him to turn out the way he did. He chose his path, you just ended it. Plus, I’m a warrior. I’ve seen death since being a ‘paw.”  
“Fireheart…”  
He touched his nose to hers, smiling at who he regarded as a second mother.   
“I wish to show you something.”   
She led him over to a puddle, where a hazy image appeared. An orange cat sat on a large rock. It affixed glowing green eyes on him… and he recognised himself.  
“Is that… me?”  
“It is the you of another timeline. It took a lot to get it, and the diversion in time was so long ago that even using all my strength the image was blurred… but it’s you. Listen.”  
A thin, distorted voice could be heard, almost as if it were borne by mist.  
“I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan…”  
“See?” Yellowfang looked at him intensely. “You were always destined to be the leader of ThunderClan.”  
He stared at the other him in the puddle until the surface rippled, reflecting the sky of the ghostly landscape instead of the other him.  
“Can I really take on that responsibility? And what about Leafstar?”  
“I have faith in you…”  
“…and StarClan will look after Leafstar.” A second cat, who he recognised as Leafstar’s mother, Frostpatch, stood before him.  
“Okay.” Firestar felt comforted. He wasn’t abandoning Leafstar with no-one to trust. Despite all that she’d had to deal with during her relatively short leadership, Leafstar would always have the guidance of the sixth Clan.  
There was silence for a moment, before Yellowfang turned to go.  
“Do you really have to go?” He mewled.  
She touched her nose to his. “I will always be with you. Rest assured; this isn’t farewell.”  
She padded away with Frostpatch, evaporating into the mist surrounding the hollow and leaving Fireheart in the still scene.  
Fireheart lay down, tucking his nose under his tail. Just before he closed his eyes, he saw the ghost-Fourtrees fading.

He opened his eyes again. Is this another dream? He made to get up, ready to hear whatever was coming next… and promptly banged his head on the tree root that he’d slept under. Ow. So this is real. He walked out onto Fourtrees’ plush grass, trying to contemplate the night’s visions. I need to restore ThunderClan, Graystripe and Cloudpaw and Sand… Oh, StarClan, I have a chance with Sandstorm. He felt lighter than he had since before the fire, even though SkyClan’s home had been scorched and they were now facing lean times. Putting aside thoughts of Sandstorm, his nephew and Graystripe for now, he padded towards their camp.   
Already the fire had burned out, and he knew that he should do something productive while he was in the area. He made his way into the hollow, where he could already see the scorched remains of two cats. Cloudwatcher, the cantankerous but good-hearted elder, who always seemed to be a kindred spirit of Yellowfang. He did not look fearful; his eyes were closed and there was a hint of peace on his worn and charred face. Fireheart bowed his head in sorrow for a minute and then moved to the other side of the hollow.   
Tigerclaw’s body was the polar opposite of Cloudwatcher’s. The solid tabby’s claws were out, eyes glaring at the sky with a mixture of hatred and fear. His mouth was agape in a screech, and claw marks surrounding him showed where he’d tried to scrabble away from the flames. Fireheart turned away from the traitor and settled next to Cloudwatcher.  
He started to wash the soot off the cat until there was some trace of the softer gray pelt underneath. Just as he’d seen Echofur do when she prepared Yellowfang for burial, he awkwardly weaved slightly charred rosemary and thyme into the elder’s fur, until the scent of fire was somewhat dampened.  
He then decided to move Tigerclaw. Lugging the large tabby away from the ruined camp, he found a prey-poor, seldom visited patch of land on the territory and started to dig, making a shallow hole to dump Tigerclaw in. Once he had finished, he kicked dirt over the tabby’s body and started to walk back to RiverClan.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart finally confesses, then has a moment about whether he should rebuild ThunderClan.

“Where have you been?” Leafstar asked as he leapt over the last stepping-stone, a trace of worry in her amber eyes.  
“I went back to camp to inspect the damage. I’ve prepared Cloudwatcher for vigil using some of the herbs that were less damaged and I buried Tigerclaw.”  
“Please don’t tell me you put him in our burial ground.”  
“Hardly. That traitor got a shallow grave in the most useless area of our territory.”  
“Good.” Leafstar’s eyes gleamed. “What are the damages?”  
“I’ll be honest with you; it wasn’t good. The camp is scorched but not unrecognisable, some trees took a heavy hit… but what worries me most is the silence.”  
“No prey?”  
“None. Personally, I think they either died or ran. If times get really hard I recommend sending patrols to retrieve any prey that may have been killed in their nests.”  
“Did you see any fire?”  
“It’d all burned out by the time I got there. I waited a night to let it die down.”  
“Good. Then tomorrow, SkyClan will go home.”  
He dipped his head respectfully, before making his way along the marshy ground to find the cat that he wanted to speak to. Sandstorm looked radiant in the golden light, making him tense, nerves surfacing as though he was in an all-important battle. Was he sure that he wanted to do this? Would it be manipulative if he confessed his love only to run off to some distant territory and ask her to come too? What if Yellowfang was wrong?  
Steeling himself for whatever happened next, he sat next to Sandstorm.  
“Hi, Fireheart. I missed you last night.”  
“Sorry, I was at the camp. You know, damage to inspect, traitors to bury…”  
“Where’d you bury that foxheart?”  
“A part where no-one visits.”  
“What, near Twolegplace? The one that is lucky to yield a scrawny shrew in greenleaf?”  
“Yep, that’s the one.”  
Her eyes glimmered with amusement. “Oh, he’d hate that.”  
Fireheart mrrowed in laughter. “Somehow, I don’t think he was thinking of where he’d be buried if he died.”  
Sandstorm snorted. “Yeah, the great and mighty Tigerstar wouldn’t dream of being anything like us mere mortals.”  
“Sandstorm… I didn’t come here just to chat.”  
“Here we go again.”  
“I promise I’ve not done anything stupid this time. Well, yet.”  
“Alright, I’m all ears.”  
“Sandstorm… I think I’m in love with you.”  
The only sound after that was the rushing of the water, rippling past them.  
“What?”  
“I’m sorry… I’ve made this awkward now, have- oomph!” He was cut off by Sandstorm barrelling into him, covering his face with licks.   
“You love me too?”  
“Yes, you mousebrain! Honestly, I was going to take you aside this evening if you didn’t finally come to your senses.”  
“So, we’re mates now?”  
“Of course! I mean, if you want to be.”  
“Did I or did I not just confess my love?”  
They both laughed, before Sandstorm twined her tail with his. He felt a blush creeping up his neck, to which Sandstorm smiled, leaning against him.   
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Silverstream slipping Graystripe a trout.   
Sandstorm evidently saw it too. “What is she doing?”  
“Probably the same thing that Leafstar’s doing with Barkstorm right now.” Their leader, too, was not immune to the craziness – she was laughing triumphantly while her mate grudgingly fetched her a vole.  
“Are they… betting on us?”  
“I had a talk with Yellowfang – she did say something about a SkyClan betting pool…”  
“Oh, they didn’t.”  
“They did.”  
“Wanna make them pay?”  
“Absolutely.”  
Yelling, they raced towards Graystripe and Silverstream, who was still grumbling about the loss of a good trout.  
“You finally got your act together!”  
“You betted on us.” Sandstorm narrowed her eyes.  
“Well… it was only for fun!”  
She advanced, finally knocking him over.  
“Hey!” She cuffed him around the ears then let him go.   
“So am I forgiven?” He chuckled.  
“Don’t do it again.” They said in unison.  
“Spooky.” Silverstream remarked.   
“Don’t think you’re getting off, either. You know the reason I didn’t tackle you.”  
Trepidation appeared in her eyes for a moment. “You… know?”  
“Don’t worry. Graystripe confided in me.”  
The large tom nodded, proceeding to whisper in Sandstorm’s ear and fill her in. Shock appeared in her eyes for a second before a sadness took over.   
“You know that you probably won’t be able to be a real family, right?”  
“We know, but even if we can only meet at gatherings, it’ll be enough.” A slight downturn of Graystripe’s mouth told Fireheart that his old friend didn’t really believe it.  
“Fireheart, when’s our next training session?” His nephew and apprentice, Cloudpaw, had wandered over to the group. “And what’s she doing here?” He gestured to Silverstream.  
“Silverstream is a friend.” Fireheart told his charge. “As for the next training session, we’ll need to see. It depends on whether we can actually get to the training area, and what state it’s in.”  
“Okay!” He replied, making no move to go. “Talking of which, did my eyes deceive me or did you finally ask Sandstorm the question?”  
“You’re indefatigable, Cloudpaw. And yes, I have asked the question.”  
“Good. It was getting irritating watching you pad after each other.”  
“You watch your mouth! I’ve got half a mind to assign you to the elders!”  
“Yeah,” Graystripe interrupted. “If I’d mouthed off to Sharpclaw like that when I was an apprentice then I’d be doing ticks for moons!”   
To no one’s surprise, Cloudpaw wasn’t in the slightest bit subdued. “I wish you’d buried that greasy traitor in the dirtplace.”   
“How’d you know about Tigerclaw?”  
“The power of pestering your leader.”  
“Anything else you’d like to tell me before I decide how many moons of tick duty you’ll have?”  
“Not in particular.”  
“Good.”  
Sitting here, with a group of friends and a warm greenleaf day, Fireheart couldn’t help but enjoy the scene. There would be challenges up ahead, but SkyClan could deal with them.  
But will they be able to if we form another Clan?  
Then Echofur came rushing out of nowhere, yowling to camp that Sharpclaw had regained his voice at last.  
Yes.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart tells the rest about ThunderClan and visits an old friend.

Yellowfang thought it was right. Redstar was counting on him. Graystripe and Silverstream could get a second chance to be a family. It was time to tell them.  
“Sandstorm, Yellowfang actually told me something else.”  
“Yellowfang?” Graystripe asked.  
“Isn’t she dead?” Cloudpaw queried.  
“She’s in StarClan now. Remember?”  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
“Anyway, as I was saying, she told me something else. I slept in Fourtrees for the night; I was too on edge to sleep in RiverClan. There I met Redstar.”  
“Redstar? Which Clan did he lead?”   
“He led ThunderClan.”  
“ThunderClan?”  
“Yes, Silverstream. ThunderClan. There were once five Clans in this forest, but Twolegs destroyed ThunderClan’s home. They were forced to leave, leaving two queens who were too pregnant or their kits too young to travel. Redstar told me that he believed that I could restore it. Yellowfang told me that we should.”  
“We?”  
“I know this is a hard decision, and I’m sorry that you have to make it. But will you do me the honour of becoming some of ThunderClan’s first warriors?”  
“Fireheart, I…” Silverstream trailed off. Emotion battled in her eyes for a minute before she whispered something to Graystripe, who stiffened, tears coming to his eyes.  
“Yes!” He proclaimed, tears now flowing freely.  
“I’ll come.” Silverstream told him. “I hate to leave Father, but maybe it’ll be better this way. No one will be ashamed.”  
“Silverstream, you’re not shameful at all!”  
Cloudpaw spoke. “Fireheart, you are my closest family. I know I’m a bit on the cheeky side, but I’d like to come with you.”  
“A bit?” Sandstorm remarked dryly.  
“Sandstorm, you don’t have to come. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you this, and I’m sorry to leave so soon after I declared my love. I was a fox-heart, and it wouldn’t surprise me if you wanted to move on.”  
“Oh, shut up, you mousebrain. Of course, I’ll come!”  
“Wait, really?”  
“Yes!”  
“Alright. Let’s leave just before dawn. Cloudpaw, you’ll get some training on the go.”

“Brilliant!” His apprentice’s eyes shone with delight.   
\---  
“So you’ve decided to rebuild ThunderClan. Thank you.” Redstar had met him in the landscape of mist again. No other cat was with him this time.  
“Where do we need to go?”  
“The remnants of ThunderClan settled downriver from here. Follow the river until you come to a gorge. Find a lot of dock.”  
“Dock?”  
“A broad-leaved plant. Found near stinging nettles. They’re used to soothe chafed paws and nettle stings. You’ll need them until your paws toughen up.”  
“Thank you for the advice.”  
“Rest now, young warrior. You shall need your strength for tomorrow.”  
Fireheart padded away, the misty landscape fading away until he was left in another dream- thankfully normal this time.  
Fireheart felt something prodding his side.  
“Graystripe… leave me alone…” he mumbled, trying to curl into Sandstorm more.  
“Get up, sleepy paws!”  
“Why are you always a morning cat?” He hissed, stumbling to his feet. Then he remembered what they were going to do. He gently licked Sandstorm until she jerked awake.  
“ThunderClan. Come on.” She stretched, jumping to her feet as Graystripe moved towards Silverstream. The pair of them walked to the RiverClan apprentices’ den, where they quickly located Cloudpaw.  
“Wake up. We have that extra-special training today.” His apprentice looked up, muzzy from sleep. He herded the young cat to his paws and nudged him outside.  
“D’you think we should take any prey?” Silverstream asked.  
“No.” Graystripe replied.   
“If you ask me, it’d be a bit of a foxhearted thing to do.” Fireheart interjected.  
“Yeah, we can easily pick something up on the trail.” Sandstorm mewed quietly.  
At last, life seemed to come into Cloudpaw’s face as he finally started to wake up. His thick pelt was fluffed with excitement.  
“All ready?” he asked.  
After receiving a chorus of yeses, they slipped away through a gap in the dens that Silverstream had found as a kit.  
The five of them padded away from RiverClan, but Fireheart led them away from the river.  
“Where are we going?”   
“Downriver to get to our new home. But first I want to check in with an old friend- and possibly a new warrior.”  
Graystripe and Sandstorm’s eyes lit in recognition.  
“Alright.” Cloudpaw told them. “The more Clanmates we have the better chance we’ll get to drive out any mangy rogues!”  
“Don’t forget that we have to recruit, too.” Fireheart reminded the hotheaded youth.  
“Fine, yeah…”  
They walked until the reeds at their side turned to heather, finally stopping at an old barn.  
“Who lives in this place?” Silverstream asked as Fireheart led them through the doors.  
She soon got her answer as a black shape raced down the ladder.  
“Fireheart! Graystripe! Sandstorm!”  
“Who are you?” Cloudpaw asked.  
“Okay, introduction time.” Fireheart told them.  
“Silverstream and Cloudpaw, Ravenpaw. Ravenpaw, Silverstream and Cloudpaw.”  
“Why are you a ‘paw? You look as old as Fireheart!”   
“Well, Cloudpaw, I was forced to flee before I earned my warrior name.”  
“Talking of which, Ravenpaw,” Graystripe interrupted. “Did you hear that Tigerclaw is dead?”  
Ravenpaw’s shoulders sagged. “Thank the stars that he can’t get to me anymore.”  
“I think I know you.” Silverstream told him. “Weren’t you that nervous apprentice at that gathering?”  
“I believe I was.”  
“Anyway, Ravenpaw,” Sandstorm spoke. “Fireheart has been asked to restore a Clan by StarClan. Do you want to be a warrior? You can be in a Clan again…”  
“This place has been good to me, but I wish to leave the forest behind. Too many memories, you know? I’ll be happy to join.”  
“Great. As soon as we get to our new home, you’ll be made a warrior. It’s long overdue.”  
“What time were you all up? It must be early – the sun’s barely out!”  
“Before dawn.”  
“Have you eaten?”  
Graystripe’s stomach growled in answer, causing mrrows of laughter to emanate from everyone else.  
“I guess not.” Ravenpaw chuckled. “Here, there are plenty of mice. It’s just a matter of catching them.”  
“Alright, Cloudpaw. Let’s put your skill to the test.”  
His apprentice nodded and the six cats fanned out around the barn. Sandstorm managed to catch one nearly immediately, of course. Graystripe and Firestar weren’t far behind, while Ravenpaw effortlessly swiped at a pair who were huddling in a corner. Silverstream, while used to hunting fish, was no slouch, and quickly had a mouse in her jaws as well. Cloudpaw made an almighty leap, crashing on a mouse that was too slow to move out of the way. Once they’d polished off their first mice, they hunted again, feasting until all were full-fed.  
“This would be a good place to hunt if a Clan were desperate.”  
“Yes. I hope that SkyClan discovers it; they just had a fire.”  
“Oh no!” Ravenpaw remarked.  
“Yeah, but at least it exposed a traitor. Let’s double back; we need to go upriver.”  
The six cats moved through the barn door, eyes bright with excitement and nerves.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They begin their journey.

The river burbled as the six cats moved along its banks. They had left the forest now and were moving along a grassy meadow. The heady scent of wildflowers danced in the air; Sandstorm joked that if any cat got lost, they should just wait for one of the others to sneeze. The sun heating his ginger pelt gave him hope; he was among friends; no, family, here on a verdant greenleaf day.  
Suddenly, there was dog-scent in the air, drowning out the scent of wildflower.  
“Dog!” Silverstream screeched. “Scatter!”  
They did, spreading out among the meadow. Fireheart’s blood felt like meltwater as he raced around, spotting a large elm tree in the distance. Barking grew nearer until he had finally reached the tree, using his claws to scrabble up the bark. Frantically swivelling his head around, he realised that the six of them had the same idea.  
It was their safety I cared about. Oh, StarClan, should I have left them in the forest Clans? He knew that he would gladly never see them again if they were safe and full fed rather than terrified, running from dogs or other threats. But then the dog stalked away in frustration, and he could hear his apprentice’s voice on an upper bough.  
“Hah! Take that, fleapelt!”  
They waited until the dog was out of sight, then leapt down and continued on, alive with excitement and a twinge of fear.   
“Seems that dog didn’t like us much. What do you think, Fireheart?”  
“Maybe a bad piece of fresh-kill?” He joked back. “After all, we’re such good cats once anyone gets to know us. I can’t imagine why he’d hold a grudge.”  
The group laughed, although he could see Sandstorm rolling her eyes playfully at Silverstream.  
“Right, now that we’ve worked off our fresh-kill, maybe we can continue.”  
Continue they did, walking until their pads were raw and the rays of another dawn started to sparkle in their eyes. Then they found a quiet hollow under a bush. Silverstream went to try her luck with the river, while Sandstorm went out to find any mice that were scuffling in the dry grasses. When they returned, they both were laden with prey; Sandstorm holding three plump mice and Silverstream coming with a large pike. “There’s enough for all of us here.”  
“Can I try fish?” Cloudpaw asked.  
“Go ahead.” Silverstream told him as Graystripe and she bent down to eat the watery creature.  
“Give me a mouse any day.” Ravenpaw told the group, snagging one of them from the impromptu pile. Fireheart and Sandstorm, following his lead, took the remaining two mice.  
“It’s good!” A muffled voice spoke from near the pike to amused chuckles.  
Prey devoured, they buried the bones under a light scattering of earth and curled up to sleep.   
When sunhigh shone bright above the group they stirred, some of the earlier risers prodding the others (namely Cloudpaw) awake.   
The group continued along the river, long stalks of wheat and grass tickling their pelts. For two days they followed the same routine, rotating hunters every rest stop. Cloudpaw had beamed when he’d caught his first trout, a lesson learnt from Silverstream. Land prey had been scarce that night, so Cloudpaw’s catch was very welcome.   
The river had diverged away from the field, a fact that none of them, who were getting rather sick of the endless grasses, complained about. An opening in a large hedge had provided them a pathway down to the riverbank, where the sun glowed red in the cool waters.   
Of course, the mood was so giddy that someone had to knock Sandstorm in.  
She came up sputtering, eyes alight with playful annoyance. She leapt for Cloudpaw, dragging him in too. The white tom splashed at her before getting his mentor into the fray. Fireheart promptly grabbed Graystripe and Ravenpaw. Finally, Silverstream leaped in, swimming around them and pelting them with river water. Despite every part of him being soaked to the bone, Fireheart laughed with relief as his paws finally got some cooling.   
“Are you becoming RiverClan?” Silverstream chuckled.  
“Oh, he started it!” Sandstorm pointed at Cloudpaw.  
“Actually, I did.” Graystripe confessed.  
“I’ll get you, you mangy tom!” Graystripe floundered away from Sandstorm, but she was faster, leaping onto his back and scooping water at him.  
Eventually, pelts streaming with water and paws rested, they decided to continue. As they walked along the banks of the river, a harsh scent barreled towards them.  
“Oh, yuck!” Cloudpaw complained. “Why do these flea-pelted Twolegs seem to be everywhere?”  
“We’ll have to cross.” Ravenpaw pointed out, amber eyes flashing. They finally saw it up ahead, and to their relief there was a space underneath.   
“That’s lucky.”   
They padded towards the underside, slipping under and walking in the shadows. In the dark he could pick out the contours of the river. He could see an orange light at the end of the tunnel. Light played across the end of the tunnel and roaring filled the air. The echoes scattered about the tunnel, filling every stone and every drop of water. Silverstream yowled in fear, bolting for the other side of the tunnel. She was quickly followed by everyone else.   
They sprinted until they could see the night sky up ahead and hear the quiet water instead of the monsters’ growls. Cloudpaw collapsed to the ground, flank heaving. “Never... again...”  
“I think we’re inclined to agree.” Sandstorm told the apprentice.  
Ravenpaw seemed the most collected out of all of them, but it still didn’t say much considering the state of the group; there was a tremor in his fur even as he lay down.  
“Is everyone okay?” He rasped.  
“Yes, Ravenpaw.” Fireheart told him; his sentiment being echoed by the others.  
“I don’t know why I ever took food from the Twolegs.” Cloudpaw remarked.  
“Because you had bees in your brain?” Fireheart snarked.  
“My pads are burning!” Graystripe complained.  
“Redstar said something about dock. I’ll get some.”  
“I’ll come.” Ravenpaw offered.  
Leaving the others behind, they found a large patch of nettles and Fireheart looked around until he located the broad-leaved plant. Stripping most of the leaves, he handed them to Ravenpaw before picking up a large bundle for himself. He squeezed through a gap in the reeds, giving some of his dock to Graystripe and Sandstorm, while Ravenpaw distributed his to Silverstream and Cloudpaw.  
“Put that on your paws.” Mingled relieved expressions appeared on his soon-to-be Clanmates’ faces as they rubbed their sore pads onto the dock.  
“Come on.” Silverstream told them. “Let’s get a bit further tonight. The faster we get to this camp, the better,”  
They walked until they couldn’t see their paws in front of their faces, then lay in a thicket of reeds, trampling it into a nest before curling up to sleep.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm comes, and Silverstream has her kits.

Quacking woke them with a start. They leapt up, until Ravenpaw gestured to a duck on the bank.  
“Hold on.” Silverstream told them, launching herself at the waterfowl. The duck gave an alarmed squawk and flew away. She hissed in disappointment, walking back to the group. “I’m not as nimble as I used to be.” It was true; the pretty silver queen looked as if her kits would come at any moment.   
“It’s alri-” Graystripe broke off. “Shh! Twolegs!” Cloudpaw tasted the air.   
“Two. No dogs.”  
At that, a pair of Twolegs, both with the long sticks that Twolegs used to attempt to catch fish, came out onto the river. They moved upstream, yowling at each other.  
“Let’s go.” Sandstorm told them. “We can always pick some fresh-kill up later.”  
They continued on under the yellow, clouded sky, hot under the blistering sun.  
“It was like this in RiverClan before the newleaf floods.”  
“Huh, rain. Where was that in our territory a while ago?” Graystripe hissed.  
“Up here. Where else?” Cloudpaw retorted.  
They ignored the prickling heat on their fur, loping on.  
“How do you think the other Clans are coping?” Silverstream asked.  
“RiverClan’ll be fine.” Graystripe reassured her.   
“SkyClan has faced worse than fire. They’ll pull through.” Fireheart added.  
The day grew hotter until they stopped to drink after every few fox-lengths. Silverstream began to look more and more exhausted as the day stretched on, and even a quick vole tossed up by Sandstorm didn’t improve their moods much.  
“Wait. What was that?” Ravenpaw asked, stopping.  
“Dog!” He exclaimed at last, running downstream. Everyone else had become inured to this kind of warning and sprinted after him, tails trailing behind them. The dog’s barking took on a different pitch.  
“Oh no.” Graystripe panted. “It’s got our scent.”  
They ran harder until there was a sound of clinking metal and the dog’s barking grew fainter.  
“It’s gone.”   
Sandstorm peered above the reeds for a second then moved towards them. “And that,” she began, “was the only time I’ll ever be grateful for a Twoleg.”  
“They took the dog away?”  
“Yep.”  
“Did you see anything else?”  
“Twoleg nests. They’ll be trouble, but we can handle them.” She gave him a confident grin, which he returned. The six of them passed an elder bush, where they were treated to the full sight of the Twolegplace.   
“It’s absolutely crawling with Twolegs!” Graystripe lashed his tail.  
The nest in front of them was larger than Twolegs’ usual nests. Usually they’d hold only a few Twolegs – a pair of mates and their kits. But this – this was something else altogether. The full-grown Twolegs had some of their weird food in their hands, while some yowled to get the kits into the nest. The kits, however, ignored them; they were too busy playing in the water.  
“Oh, if they were SkyClan apprentices...” Ravenpaw fantasized.  
“If I hadn’t listened to Sharpclaw I’d be saddled with a talking to before you could move a mouse-length!”  
“We need to go around them.” Silverstream stated grimly.  
“Let’s skirt that fence there, then.” Cloudpaw suggested.  
“Good thinking.” He praised his apprentice, who straightened up.  
Around the fence, where the Twolegs he knew had gardens, there was a hard, black surface. Dozens of brightly-coloured monsters slept on it. One awoke as if it had sensed their presence, but instead roared away from them and onto a little Thunderpath.  
“We need to cross.” Sandstorm whispered.  
They crept across lightly like they were stalking mice. They had at last come to the Thunderpath.  
“On three.” Silverstream said. “One... Two...”   
They raced across. A monster that had been coming out stopped in surprise. Fireheart had to admit that it looked almost comical, but he was through the Thunderpath and on the other side now, and so were the others.   
They stopped in a shrub to catch their breath, when he looked up to the darkening sky. “We’d best find shelter before this storm hits.”  
There were no Twoleg nests on their route, only the sounds of water birds and rushing reeds. Until just before nightfall, when they spied an abandoned Twoleg nest.  
“Wait!” He called to Sandstorm, who had already started to venture in. “We don’t know what’s in there!”  
“There’s no Twolegs or dogs, Fireheart. It’ll be safe for the night.” When he saw the faces of his companions, Fireheart had no choice but to agree, although the shadowed walls brought back memories of his time as a kittypet. As soon as they entered the Twoleg nest, Silverstream gave a yelp.  
“What’s wrong?” Graystripe had instantly rushed to her side.  
“The kits... they’re coming!”   
The abandoned nest exploded with action. Silverstream lay down on a worn Twoleg version of grass while Sandstorm took charge.   
“Alright, Cloudpaw, I can smell mouse. Go and see if you can catch one.”  
“May I come too?” Ravenpaw asked, looking a bit uneasy at the sight of Silverstream.  
“Go ahead.” The pair of toms raced off.  
“You should stay, Sandstorm. I remember your story about the time you were trying to enjoy your meal and Cherryki-”  
“I’ll stay, okay?” she replied. “Fetch a stick and some moss.”  
“On it.” He looked for the thickest sticks he could find and managed to find some moss growing on one of the Twoleg nest’s walls. Keeping the sticks in his mouth, he dragged them back to Sandstorm, who eagerly took them, giving one to Silverstream. He raced outside to get water, but just as he stepped out of the entryway, the skies opened. Rain plastered his fur to his pelt; he dropped the moss, letting it soak in the rain before he picked it back up and deposited it by Silverstream’s side. Graystripe was pacing anxiously around her while Sandstorm was stroking her with her tail.  
“Well done, you’re doing fine.”  
Garbled cursing came from Silverstream as she bit down on the stick. An audible cracking could be heard.  
“A she-kit!” Sandstorm called to the parents. Silverstream took her, licking her fur the wrong way up until she squeaked.  
Graystripe licked Silverstream’s head fondly, purring even as the little gray kit began to nurse. Thunder boomed and lightning struck, illuminating Silverstream’s tired but joyful face as she picked the stick up, already preparing for the she-kit's sibling.  
Another contraction struck her as she fragmented the stick. Sandstorm quickly placed another between her jaws as she tried again and again to get her second kit out. She gave another cry of pain. From where he was sitting, Fireheart could see blood.   
“Sandstorm! She’s bleeding!” Sandstorm ran out to fetch some moss as Graystripe licked Silverstream again and again, mumbling something into her ear. The second stick broke and he placed it between the queen’s jaws as the second kit slid out. Graystripe took the kit, who had started to squeak already, giving him a good lick and placing him beside his mother. Sandstorm returned with the moss, dabbing at Silverstream’s wound.  
“I’m no medicine cat, but it doesn’t look deep. See, the bleeding’s starting to slow.”  
Graystripe paused his mumbling for a second, before licking Silverstream again and again as she smiled wearily at her two kits.  
“They’re perfect.” She said at last, curling her tail protectively against them.  
Fireheart dropped the moss he had brought at her paws and she lapped thirstily at it.  
“Is it over?” Ravenpaw and Cloudpaw poked their heads around the doorway, each carrying a mouthful of plump mice.  
“Yes. Come and meet the kits!” Graystripe told them.  
Cloudpaw placed his fattest mouse by Silverstream; she devoured it, laying her head down again.  
“I feel like I could sleep for a moon.” She grumbled.  
“Before you sleep, let’s name them.”  
“Alright, what do you think for the daughter?”  
“I was thinking Featherkit, to honour the SkyClan heritage you have.”  
“Then this one should be Waterkit.”  
“No, actually – I was thinking of Stormkit. It's water, yes, but also thunder.”  
“Silverstream - that’s perfect! But are you sure you want to name her Featherkit and not a RiverClan name?”  
“Absolutely.”  
“Then it’s settled.”  
Silverstream stretched, curling up with her new kits, while the rest of them attacked the remaining mice. The wind whistled outside as Graystripe curled up to sleep with his new little family, while Fireheart lay with Sandstorm. Memories of his kittypet days came rushing back, and he felt unease, but then he looked at his friends and mate and was reminded that the past didn’t define him anymore.   
He alone could decide his future, and he had picked the path of a warrior.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group reach the gorge, Ravenflight becomes a warrior, and an unexpected visitor shows up.

Fireheart woke curled around Sandstorm. The storm still raged on outside; it was still dark. He looked around, looking to see what had awoken him. He looked over to Graystripe and Silverstream. Silverstream was asleep, tired after her kitting, but Graystripe was awake. He strained to hear what his friend was saying.  
“…Thank you, StarClan, for sparing her life. I know we haven’t been the most loyal to the warrior code, but we can try again.”  
Fireheart closed his eyes, purring. They would go on. Despite the unease in every fibre of his being when he was faced with this place, they would go on and survive to reclaim ThunderClan.  
When he woke again, the others were stirring. The storm had passed and already he could see dawn starting to break.   
“Shall we hunt?” he asked Sandstorm, who stretched, nodded and ambled over to the Twoleg… kitchen… where some mice were happily feasting on some rotting scrap of Twoleg food. Sandstorm pointed her tail toward the left. He nodded. The pair leapt from opposite sides, startling the mice who tried to run. But there was no escape, and soon the mice were caught. While Fireheart took the opposite corner of the kitchen, Sandstorm went to scout for pickings higher up. Finally, satisfied with their catch, they lugged their prey back to the others, who were yawning and debating who should hunt.  
“Morning, sleepy paws! We brought you some breakfast in the den.”  
“Brilliant!” Graystripe remarked, taking three. Fireheart snorted – honestly, he was so greedy sometimes – before he laid two down at Silverstream’s paws.  
“The apocalypse!” Ravenpaw cried suddenly, startling them all. “Graystripe only taking one mouse? Are you sure you’re feeling well?”  
“Oh, shut up.” Laughter followed his statement.  
“Let’s hit the trail. Two cats will need to carry the kits and we may be a bit slower than usual, but that’s fine.”  
The group all nodded, and Graystripe and Silverstream took a kit each. They continued along the banks of the engorged river, seeing all manner of washed up prey.  
“Well, if we’re desperate, at least we won’t go hungry.” Cloudpaw remarked.  
“Good thinking.” He complimented his apprentice.   
“Even I can’t swim across that!” Silverstream exclaimed, staring wide-eyed at the swollen river.  
“And you’re not going to.” Graystripe retorted.   
They walked on, often stopping to let Silverstream rest or the kits nurse. When Cloudpaw brought a drowned vole to the starving group, they all admitted that although it wasn’t as good as fresh-caught prey, it was palatable enough. They walked on, stopping, resting, eating. Fireheart had noticed that through the journey, they had all become tighter knit, as they became forced to place trust in each other.  
The river started to wane on the first quarter moon since the kits. Up ahead, a faint silhouette of peaks started to emerge.  
“That could be it!” Ravenpaw yowled excitedly. Fireheart’s apprentice agreed, both cats’ tails excitedly waving in the air.   
They picked up the pace, the kits swinging to and fro in Fireheart and Sandstorm’s jaws as they made haste towards the cliffs. Soon their paws gathered orange dust.  
“Hey, I look like you!” Cloudpaw joked, looking at the pair of them. His fur had gone a medium ginger; only rings of white around his eyes betrayed his true colouring.  
“Then you should have watched your paws around that rock you tripped on!” Ravenpaw retorted.  
“You’ve got me there.”  
Trees lined the paths up ahead, a fact they took advantage of as they slipped from the shade of one into another. Occasionally a bird would roost in one of the trees, and they would have a chance to show off their training – or pass some on to Cloudpaw. They avoided a trio of Twoleg nests up in the distance, keeping to the shadows when three silhouettes of Twolegs came yowling and screeching down the cliffside before plunging into the water.  
“These Twolegs’ll freeze half to death!”  
“Eh, they made their nest, they deal with the thorns.” Graystripe told Sandstorm.  
“True. A bit of cold’ll teach them caution.”  
They wandered on more, carefully scouting for signs of a camp – or Twolegs. Finally, they came to a large waterfall. A pool glistened underneath, mist scattering rainbow light into the air.  
“Want to cool our paws?”  
“Sure!” Silverstream leapt into the water after leaving the kits with Ravenpaw, splashing about with Graystripe. Fireheart, for his part, was quite happy to just place his paws into the cool water, thank you very much. Sandstorm shared the sentiment, basking in the warm sunlight with him as they dipped their tails in the water and shared tongues. Silverstream relieved Ravenpaw of his duties, watching the kits with a careful eye so that the tom could get his share of the water. Eventually, they decided to move on, with one large obstacle; the waterfall.   
One at a time, they scrambled up the rocks. Fear lit Fireheart’s pelt as he moved his claws a fraction of a mouse-length and the rock he was planning to put a paw on gave way. He could see the others climbing up behind, with only Graystripe and Silverstream staying with the kits; Fireheart looked back every few heartbeats to make sure that everyone was safe. He finally reached the top of the waterfall, where Sandstorm, Cloudpaw and Ravenpaw stopped as they had been instructed to. Carrying Stormkit in his mouth, Graystripe climbed up the ledge, handing his kit over to Sandstorm. Fireheart watched the young kitten get hauled up the rock and watched as she ascended the cliff face with the kit, coming to rest beside him. As planned, Featherkit was hauled up the same way. Once the eight of them were at the top of the gorge, they caught their breath.  
“No kits shall be able to go there.” Fireheart stated. “The first time they see that waterfall is when they’re apprentices.” The other cats weren’t too keen to disagree, and they set off following the river. The sandy sides soon sloped up to become a gorge, and every cat kept their eyes open for a hint of ThunderClan. It was Cloudpaw that first noticed the crack in the rocks at the floor level.  
“There!” He pointed out. “There’s a den!”  
They scrambled up, coming into the cave. The pungent scent of herbs permeated the air.  
“I’d bet a rabbit that this was the medicine den.” Fireheart remarked.  
“Well, I wouldn’t bet against you.” Sandstorm told him as they moved on. A weathered trail led up the cliff face, and they quickly found themselves in another cave. It looked about the same size as SkyClan’s warrior den and it was cool, shaded from the elements. Shallow scrapes in the floor littered the den.  
“That must be the warrior’s den!” Silverstream exclaimed, taking Featherkit from Ravenpaw while Cloudpaw passed Stormkit to Graystripe.  
She was right, Fireheart mused. The den was in the right place to allow cats to protect their Clanmates if needed. “Those scrapes would be good for nests.” He remarked.  
“Only if we could find the moss!” Cloudpaw told him.  
“That’ll have to be our top priority.”  
They reluctantly trudged into the heat again, feeling glad to get to the next den. This cave had a boulder shielding the den from harsh light, and the scrapes were bigger in the den.  
“The nursery!” Silverstream trilled.  
“Do you want to wait here, or would you like to come?”  
“I’d love to come, but I’m afraid the kits are getting a bit sick of being carried about.”  
As if in answer, Stormkit let out a plaintive mew from Graystripe’s mouth.  
“Yep, that’ll settle it.” Sandstorm remarked. They let the kits down by Silverstream.  
“I’ll show you all this later.” Graystripe promised, touching his nose to his mate’s.   
The third cave was much smaller, looking out onto a ledge in the gorge.  
“The leader’s den.” Sandstorm told him. He nodded in agreement.  
“That’s all well and good, but where will I sleep?” Cloudpaw asked.  
“In here!” Ravenpaw told him, gesturing to a lower den with slightly smaller dips in the floor.  
“So that means this last one must be for the elders. Funny, you’d think they’d have been a bit stiff to climb up there.” Graystripe said.  
“Oh, you know elders. They’ll find a way, complain about it then tell cats how the younger generations are getting complacent.” Cloudpaw remarked.  
“Watch your language!” He chided his apprentice while trying to hide a smirk. Cloudpaw shrugged.   
“Alright, we should probably hunt.” Ravenpaw told the group at large.  
“Wait. There’s one thing I want to do first.” Fireheart said.  
Graystripe fetched Silverstream, who left Featherkit and Stormkit sleeping on the sandy floor of the nursery.   
He leapt up to a large rock on the territory.  
“I, Fireheart...” He paused. Was he really fit to be doing this? He wasn’t even a leader.  
“Oh, come off it, Fireheart!” Cloudpaw yowled. “We all know you’re the future leader. Just get on with it!”  
He started again. “I, Fireheart, future leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in their turn. Ravenpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”  
“I do.” Ravenpaw replied, his amber eyes glittering. He was a far cry from the nervous apprentice that he had met upon joining the Clan.  
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Ravenpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Ravenflight. StarClan honours your patience and intelligence, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”  
“Ravenflight! Ravenflight!” The Clan cheered. Graystripe gave him a friendly nudge before Fireheart touched noses with his friend.  
“And now we can hunt.” he told Ravenflight.   
There was a pleased silence, which was quickly shattered by the arrival of another figure. He stood in the gorge, dark tabby fur bristling, his face a rictus of annoyance.  
“What,” Dustpelt began, “In StarClan’s name are you doing?”


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dustpelt is introduced to the new Clan, and Featherkit and Stormkit open their eyes.

"I could ask you the same thing.” Fireheart replied, leaping off the rock and facing his irate former Clanmate.  
“I was sent by Leafstar to search for you flea-pelts! You have the whole Clan bemused! Just what do you think you’re doing?”  
“Following StarClan’s orders.”  
“Surely your duty is within the Clan? StarClan would not send you away after a fire!”  
Fireheart sighed. “Dustpelt, I killed Tigerclaw. I saved the Clan. But StarClan decided that another Clan had more need of me.”  
“Well, where is this ‘Clan’?” Dustpelt asked, bristling.  
“Right here.” Sandstorm told him, approaching to stand beside Fireheart. “Welcome to ThunderClan, Dustpelt.”  
“There are four Clans.”  
“There used to be five. Twolegs drove out the fifth Clan and they settled here. It seems that they have scattered now for whatever reason.”  
“And which StarClan cat told you this?” Disbelief dripped from his every word.  
“Yellowfang.” Fireheart replied dryly. “In addition to Redstar, leader of ThunderClan.”  
“I can see that I’m not going to be able to convince you to turn back, am I?” He finally sighed.  
“No.” They told him in unison.   
“I’ll report back to Leafstar then. Say you’re on a mission from StarClan and won’t come back.” His voice was dull; Fireheart guessed that the brown tabby was exhausted.  
“Rest first, please. This gorge seems to have prey and you must be tired after following us for a moon.”  
“I am.” Dustpelt admitted.  
“Well, you can rest for a bit. The warrior’s den is up there. We’re afraid we haven’t got bedding just yet, but we’re about to take a hunting patrol out, so we’ll at least have some feathers.” Ravenflight implored his brother, who stood still for a minute.  
“Is that Ravenpaw? I thought you died!”  
“Ravenflight, as of now. And Tigerclaw tried his hardest, but these two fuzzballs,” he gestured to Fireheart and Graystripe, “saved my life.”  
“I never did get to apologize for how I treated you as a ‘kit and a ‘paw. I’m sorry for looking down on you for all those moons.”  
“Apology accepted. Now go, rest.”  
Dustpelt nodded. “Later, can we hunt together? I feel like there’s a lot to catch up on.”  
“Of course, Dustpelt.” Ravenflight then came to Fireheart.  
“Who’s hunting?”  
“Let’s see – Sandstorm and Cloudpaw can come with me. Graystripe can guard camp. As for you, you can either try to guard the camp or see what bedding you can find.” He yowled.   
“On it, Fireheart.” Ravenflight replied, streaking off to find some good nest material.  
Graystripe took up a position by the river, amber eyes vigilant for anything that would dare to harm his kits.  
Fireheart waved his tail at Cloudpaw and Sandstorm, who’d come to join him. “The river here’ll just give us fish. What do you say we climb up?”  
“Can’t argue with that. I’d love to have some grass on my paws.” The white tom mewed, springing up the slope that led out of the gorge. Sharing amused glances at the apprentice’s eagerness, Fireheart and Sandstorm followed.   
The grass was sun-dried, but Fireheart knew that come newleaf it would be as verdant as SkyClan’s. Sandstorm’s ears pricked. “Mouse!” she hissed, stalking towards it. Meanwhile, Fireheart and Cloudpaw continued at a slower pace, waiting for Sandstorm to catch up while keeping alert for any sounds. It was Fireheart who smelt the next sign of life.   
“There’s a rabbit in that bush; see if you can catch it.” He mewed to Cloudpaw, who eagerly began to stalk forward. Fireheart moved so that the rabbit wouldn’t be alerted; spying a cardinal, he clawed his way slowly up the trunk. Ever so carefully, he inched along the branch, pouncing on the bird and killing it with a swift bite before it made a sound. He descended to see Sandstorm and Cloudpaw proudly holding their catches; they buried the prey and moved on.   
Cloudpaw had started to climb after a large crow; Fireheart was left alone with Sandstorm.  
“How are you holding up?” He asked.  
“I’m doing alright, Fireheart. Sure, there are times when I miss SkyClan, but then I remember that I’m with my friends. That I’m with you.” She nuzzled him and he felt his face light aflame. He licked her around the ears before he caught a flash of movement in the distance. Sandstorm saw it too, racing around to capture the fleeing prey. The rabbit switched directions, fleeing from Sandstorm – right into Fireheart’s paws.  
“Nice!” He complimented her.  
“Nice yourself. We make a great team!”  
“That we do.” He sat beside her, pressing his fur into hers, a gesture which she reciprocated.  
“If you don’t mind,” Cloudpaw began, “Can you stop being so lovey-dovey in front of young eyes?”  
“Oh, you’ll understand someday.” Sandstorm chuckled.  
The three took prey in jaws and went back to fetch the rest, unaware of pale amber eyes watching in intrigue.  
When they returned, placing the first prey caught by the new Clan on a large, flat rock, it was to find that Ravenflight had brought back plenty of bracken, but no moss.  
“Excellent, birds.” He remarked. “Moss seems pretty scarce around these parts, so feathers’ll have to do for now.  
“I’ll wake Dustpelt.” Graystripe offered. Silverstream poked her head outside, unsure of the commotion.  
“Brilliant. My belly thinks my throat’s torn out!” The pretty queen remarked, choosing Cloudpaw’s crow from the fresh-kill pile. “And these feathers won’t go amiss either.” She took it back to the nursery cave. Ravenflight placed a bundle of bracken in the entryway to the nursery, which was quickly taken. Dustpelt, bleary-eyed, came down from the warriors’ cave.  
“We thought you might want a meal.” Fireheart remarked.  
“Thank you.” The two of them had never been friends, but a mutual respect was starting to spring up between them. He took the cardinal, carefully stripping it of its feathers before devouring the bird.  
“How many nests?” he asked.  
“Hmm… six. Don’t worry about Silverstream, she has a crow.” Fireheart replied.  
“Why’s she need a crow to herself? Surely we could do four or five nests with each bird?”  
“She’s got kits, Dustpelt.” Ravenflight added.  
“With whom?”  
“Me.” Graystripe had defiance painted on his gray face.  
“But that’s half- “  
“We’re in one Clan now. ThunderClan.” Sandstorm challenged him.  
“Alright, alright. Kits are always a blessing to the Clan. May I meet them?”  
“Of course.” Dustpelt was led into the nursery by Graystripe and Fireheart. Silverstream beamed at them as she fixed her nest, occasionally pulling back a rogue kit.  
“Dustpelt, this is Featherkit and Stormkit.”  
“Which is which?”  
“The lighter she-cat is Featherkit, and the dark tom is Stormkit.” Silverstream replied. The kits squirmed.  
“Alright, you’ve had a feed and a good groom, what is it?” Silverstream quietly asked her kits.  
Featherkit raised her head, blinking open brilliant blue eyes.  
“Oh!” Fireheart exclaimed.  
“Welcome, little one.” Silverstream purred, licking the kit between her ears. Stormkit followed suit, revealing amber-flecked eyes that took in the nursery with fascination.  
“Featherkit, Stormkit, this is your father, Graystripe.” The pair wiggled forward as Graystripe touched noses with both, eyes shining.  
“Welcome to ThunderClan.” Fireheart told the kits, before he and Dustpelt left the little family alone.


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intruders enter camp, but they may actually help the new Clan.

Ravenflight sat on the riverbank, scanning the gorge for any signs of intruders. Everything was calm in camp, the river burbling by. He scanned the cliff, seeing nothing amiss.   
Unbeknownst to him, a silver tabby crept down the cliff face, using the tenuous paw holds to haul herself down. She reached the warriors’ den and silently crept in, taking an unoccupied dip in the corner of the nest.   
She watched the strangers. Were they Clan cats? They certainly seemed so, taking organized patrols and keeping a cat on watch. But she knew that many rogues did the same for practicality’s sake. Bluestorm and Snowfur were up on a hedge near the Skyrock, but she wished to gain a better insight into the lives of these cats through close observation. The black one’s eyes seemed keen enough, but without the high ground to see the whole gorge it had been easy to slip into the den undetected.   
She had intended to keep watch on these cats and try and figure out their ways, but she had soon fallen asleep.

“Intruder!” Fireheart sounded the alarm as he jerked awake, ready to allow his friend to stand down, and met unfamiliar eyes. His call woke every cat in the gorge. Ravenflight stalked into the warriors’ den, quickly followed by Cloudpaw, claws already unsheathed for a fight. Graystripe raced to protect Silverstream and the kits.  
It was Sandstorm who broke the silence. “Who are you and what are you doing in our camp?”  
The cat seemed calm amongst the commotion. “My name is Thunderflower. I wished to observe you.”  
“Why would you want to spy on us?” Cloudpaw hissed.  
Fireheart stopped. “Wait... you have a warrior name.”  
“So, you do know the Clans!” Thunderflower exclaimed.  
“Know them? We’re the new ThunderClan.”  
“My mother’s mother used to be a member of the Clan... now it’s been scattered.”  
“What happened?” Dustpelt prompted.  
Thunderflower stayed quiet.   
“...You’ll have to get more warriors. Or at least a better vantage point.” She said at last.   
“But what happened to ThunderClan?”  
She didn’t answer.   
Cloudpaw huffed in annoyance.  
“We promise, we won’t leave.”  
“I’ll get Bluestorm, Snowfur and Whitestorm. They’ll be excited to learn that there’s a new Clan.”  
She exited.  
“She never told us what happened!” Cloudpaw blurted out.  
“Well, at least we’ll get some new warriors. Thunderflower is right; we’re a small Clan right now. Besides, she can tell us in her own time.” Fireheart said  
“Her own time isn’t good enough if we’re all killed by what killed the original ThunderClan!”  
“Yes, but we won’t get an answer by pressuring her.” Ravenflight told the bristling apprentice. “Shall I go and tell Graystripe that she wasn’t a threat?”  
“Yes, and then you can rest. You’ve had a long day.”  
The black cat slipped out of the den and came back a moment later, collapsing into a bracken nest which was sparsely woven with feathers. A moment later excited squeaking was heard. Fireheart padded out of the den, seeing Silverstream fondly watching her kits wrestling.   
“I’m an intruder! I’m going to get you!” Featherkit squealed, pouncing on her brother. The pair tussled playfully, letting out excited squeals. At that moment, Thunderflower, Bluestorm, Snowfur and Whitestorm came down the gorge slope.   
“Intruders!” the kits squeaked as one, trying to pounce on them but failing miserably. Whitestorm laughed, stepping around Stormkit as he tried to relaunch an attack.  
“Come back, kits! Don’t attack the newcomers!” Silverstream yowled, pulling them back. “You can play with each other. Maybe if you’re good, one of us can tell you about the First Battle.”  
“Ooh, a new story!” Featherkit exclaimed, quickly racing with her brother to play near the nursery.  
“What are your names?” Bluestorm asked.  
“I am Fireheart. This is Sandstorm, Cloudpaw, Dustpelt, Graystripe and Silverstream. Ravenflight’s in the warriors’ den.” He pointed to each in turn with his tail.  
“And these two rascals here are Featherkit and Stormkit.”  
“Nice names.” Snowfur remarked.   
“If you would like, I’ll show you where the moss is. I don’t know how crazy you forest cats are, but surely most cats use moss, right?”  
“We do.” Sandstorm confirmed. “We just couldn’t find any.”  
“Thank you. If you’d like, can you please show us some other places from your youth?”  
“Of course.” Thunderflower purred. “I’ll show you the moss first. Then, I can show you around.”  
“Who’d like to come?” Fireheart asked the group at large.  
“If someone could kit-sit, I’d be happy to come and help with the moss.”  
“I’ll kitsit.” Dustpelt offered. “I can tell them that story about the First Battle while we wait for you all.”  
“Yay!” Stormkit squeaked, rushing to Dustpelt. “Can we hear it now?”  
“Then it’s settled. Who else wants to come?”  
“I’ll come.” Sandstorm offered.  
“Count me in.” Graystripe said.  
“I’d rather hunt, if that’s okay.” Cloudpaw told Fireheart.  
“Hey, Cloudpaw. Feel like a friendly competition?” Bluestorm offered, Whitestorm and Snowfur standing behind her.  
“Sure. Two cats on a patrol?” Cloudpaw mewed back.  
“The patrol which catches the most prey gets to push the other into the river!” Bluestorm exclaimed as Snowfur moved to join Cloudpaw.  
The two patrols bounded up the gorge slope, while Thunderflower led the way to a crack in the gorge wall.  
“Watch your step; there’s water in here.”  
“Alright.” Sandstorm mewed.  
They entered, Thunderflower smiling at the others’ awed expressions.  
“It’s glowing!” Fireheart exclaimed.  
“Welcome to the Shining Cave. This is where, my mother told me, ThunderClan communed with StarClan.”  
“Can you hear that?” Silverstream asked.  
He pricked his ears. “Whispers!”  
“StarClan are here!” Graystripe quietly exclaimed.  
“Will taking the moss offend StarClan?” Sandstorm asked.  
“Not at all. It’s used in so many things, after all.”  
“That is true.” Silverstream replied. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take some moss and relieve Dustpelt of his duty. Those rambunctious scamps will be jumping all over him!”  
“He’s still young. He can fight them off.” Graystripe replied.  
“Oh, I don’t know.” Sandstorm chuckled. “They’re vicious, those two!”  
Silverstream tugged at some moss, taking a large clump, then moving her claws to gather some more. Satisfied, she took the bundle in her jaws, Graystripe soon following her lead, taking as much moss as he could carry. Fireheart kept an ear out for the whispers as he worked. When they were all laden with moss, they moved away from the cave, going back to deposit the moss in a heap near the dens.  
“Ooh! What’s this?”  
“Moss.” Silverstream told them, taking it in.   
“Hey, kits, do you want to learn how to play moss-ball?” Graystripe asked.  
Smiling to himself, Fireheart turned around and let Thunderflower lead him and Sandstorm away.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thunderflower gives Fireheart and Sandstorm a tour of the gorge.

Thunderflower first led them to the large rock that he’d been using as a meeting point. “This was the Rockpile. As you’ve been doing, it was used for Clan meetings.”  
They nodded assent. “Now, follow me up this trail.” They obliged, moving past their dens. They came to a large gap in the rock. Thunderflower, despite her obvious age, took a flying leap and landed squarely on the other side. Sandstorm and Fireheart copied her leap nimbly.  
“This was the Skyrock. The Clan used to meet here for gatherings.”  
“So, in a few days, we’ll have to come here.” Fireheart remarked.  
“Seems like it.” Sandstorm replied.  
“It’s not just for Gatherings – it makes an excellent vantage point.” Thunderflower added.  
“Brilliant. I know you furballs mean no harm, but there could be others who would.” Sandstorm told the she-cat.  
As they were led down the trail, Thunderflower affirming their den uses, Fireheart noted the small river. “Did the river ever flood?”  
“Only just below the warriors’ cave. The whole Clan sheltered there.”  
“The kits would have loved that.”  
“The warriors, not so much.” Sandstorm chuckled.  
They padded downstream to a more wooded area, Thunderflower growing livelier with every step. The thick undergrowth proved little challenge to her as she weaved through it nimbly. “Our skill was undergrowth hunting. It was also good for battle.”  
“Yeah, thorns do tend to throw off your fighting skills.” Fireheart joked.  
“Oh, yes. Mother had brilliant stories about when she used that skill to her advantage.”  
They came to a fallen tree, padding across it until they got to a small cave.  
“That was the edge of ThunderClan territory – as well as where I was born.” She led them inside the cave, which had stalactites hanging from the ceiling and sand on the floor. Fireheart tried to imagine what it would have been like when occupied before Sandstorm interrupted his reverie.  
“What was your mother’s name?”  
“Daisypollen.” It was odd somehow, as though a different set of Clans with different naming conventions had chosen the name. “My father dropped in in fits and starts, so I never got to know him well. I had a littermate called Goose.”  
“Does he live here?” Fireheart prompted.  
But Thunderflower merely led them away. Fireheart winced.  
“Sorry.” he whispered to Sandstorm. “Goose had probably died.”  
“He must’ve.” Sandstorm whispered back.  
There were no beaten paths to follow this time as Thunderflower leapt up rocks.  
“Here was the place I first caught prey. It was stuck in the undergrowth, but Flasheye wasn’t too concerned about that. There’s the stump marking the border, as well. I was so proud that I’d caught a mouse, on ThunderClan territory no less!”  
“Who was Fla-” Sandstorm began, then broke off, wary of the subject.  
“Flasheye was my mother’s sister. There’s always been a tradition of other cats mentoring young apart from their parents. Guess they may have been wary of them going too easy. Or maybe they remembered the Code.”  
She moved again as Fireheart and Sandstorm shared excited looks. The spirit of ThunderClan still echoed within this gorge and it was their duty to revive it.  
A fox hole was next, according to Thunderflower. “Two kits were killed here. The rogues all banded together to give the fox a nasty clawing.”  
“It’s so close to Twolegplace! Wouldn’t the fox have stayed away from Twolegs?” Fireheart  
“Aye, but this was before the Twolegs expanded.”  
She led them closer to Twolegplace and one of the outer gardens.  
“That nest used to have a dog with a fierce bark. Goose dared me to enter one day. Turned out the pathetic little thing was smaller than me! I soon chased it off.”  
They all mrrowed in laughter before Thunderflower moved, obviously avoiding one nest.  
“What happened there?” Sandstorm asked softly.  
“Goose always heard voices. The other cats teased him for them. One day he decided to go to Twolegplace to escape the voices. From what I’ve heard they’ve lessened, and he’s found some companionship. It’s not been easy for him.” As if she predicted the next question, she continued. “And don’t even think about asking him to be a medicine cat. He’d never come.” A rustling in the bushes nearby made all three of them duck for cover.  
“Hey, loony!”   
“Why, that little...” Sandstorm hissed under her breath.  
“What’d your visions say? Did they tell you about the future or such rubbish?” The voice continued.  
“Ash, maybe this isn’t the best idea...” another voice called.  
“Nonsense, what can he do? Spout a prophecy?”  
“Who are you talking to?” Fireheart called out.  
“Ah!” The young cat – Ash, Fireheart presumed, leapt around. A green collar sat on his neck.  
“I told you!” The other one mewed. “Besides, it was never nice in the first place.”  
“N-no one...” Ash replied, shuffling his paws.  
“You must be pretty weird if you just yowl at a nest.”  
“I’m not weird!”  
“Well, who were you talking to?”  
“This mad old cat, Goose. Claims to see star cats.”  
“Well, is it nice to go around tormenting other cats?”  
“N-no...” Ash finally said.  
“I’m glad you recognized that. Well, you can go, but don’t let me catch you doing it again.” He drew aside, letting the young kittypets leave.  
Their patrol continued until the wood of the Twolegs’ fences was replaced with bare silver stuff.  
“What is this place?” Fireheart asked.  
“We should go.” Thunderflower’s tail lashed. She briskly moved into the woods. From Fireheart’s perspective, the place wasn’t all that impressive – a large barn like ShadowClan’s carrionplace, with the same rotten smell. But the sight of the nest seemed to creep out Thunderflower, so he took the cue and followed her back to the gorge.  
“You’re back!” Sandstorm was greeted by two exuberant kits.  
“Graystripe says you’re the best moss-ball player!” Featherkit exclaimed.  
“Well, we’ll see about that.” Sandstorm gave them a small smile and was promptly jumped on by Stormkit.   
“You’re no match for both of us!” the tom squeaked.  
“Want to test that?”   
Thunderflower drew away from the group.  
“I’ll tell you exactly what drove ThunderClan out now.”  
“Was it something to do with that large nest?”  
“Unfortunately, yes. ThunderClan were killed by rats.”


	12. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four new apprentices join the Clan.

“Rats?” Fireheart echoed in disbelief.  
“Yes, rats. One rat alone doesn’t pose much of a problem... but there were rats who blotted out the floor, who moved as one. These aren’t your ordinary carrion rats. These ones are clever.”  
“So, what do we do about them?” Sandstorm asked, batting the moss-ball to Cloudpaw, who happily took up the game. She came to walk with Thunderflower and Fireheart, who were now aimlessly pacing the forest.  
“We can’t do anything for now. But eventually when we become a real Clan again, we can take the battle to them.” Fireheart replied.  
“We need to train, in that case.” Sandstorm told him; Fireheart knew she was already recalling all the training exercises she’d ever seen.  
“Yes.” Thunderflower agreed. “But we also need to recruit. Tell me, what did you notice about those kittypets?”  
“They’ve got spunk. Fern seems to be more levelheaded; that’ll be a good warrior trait. Ash will just need to work on tempering his abrasiveness and foolhardiness before he’s ready to fight.”  
“Those seem like good assessments. You’ve had an apprentice before, haven’t you?”  
“Not yet.” Sandstorm admitted ruefully. “Fireheart and Graystripe were lucky enough to get Dovepelt and Poppyfur, but I’ve not been so lucky.”  
“We’ll get you an apprentice. Maybe one of the future recruits to the Clan? Failing that, there’s always Stormkit and Featherkit.”  
“Thanks!” Sandstorm exclaimed.  
"Well, they seem friendly enough...” A voice whispered.   
They swivelled around to the source of the voice. A gorse bush obscured the voices.  
“Now look what you’ve done!” Another voice rebuked. “Cinder, we know you’re excited, but now we’re trapped!”  
Fireheart nosed the gorse aside to reveal four young cats. Fireheart could see their ribs through their pelts.  
“Come on out, it’s not as if we’re foxes!” he implored them, moving aside. Nervously, they came out of the gorse bush.  
“You look half-starved!” Sandstorm exclaimed, eyeing the quartet. “Don’t you have parents?”  
“Well, yes... but Ma disappeared a half-moon ago and Dad’s not in the area for now.” The amber-furred tom replied, looking warily at his golden tabby brother.  
“Well, we have some room to get you guys a decent meal. Come on, we’ll take you to our home.” Fireheart mewed.  
Gingerly, the four youths followed them back to the gorge. The four cats looked awed as they took in the sight of the gorge. The cats who had been on patrol had stocked the fresh-kill pile well and were now playfully teasing one another, basking in the sun’s warmth. Silverstream was carefully supervising her kits as they splashed around in the river while Graystripe took brambles and, after asking Dustpelt’s advice, carefully wove them to create a camp barrier. Ravenflight was trying his luck at a fish, with little success.  
“Woah.” The ginger-and-white she-cat mewed.  
“You live here?” The gray she-cat added.  
“We do. Welcome to ThunderClan.” Sandstorm told them. The three of them led the newcomers down the slope into camp, where they sat on a warm rock.  
“What are your names?” Thunderflower inquired.  
“I’m Bright.” The ginger and white she-cat mewed.  
“Thorn.” The amber tabby dipped his head politely.  
“Bracken.” His brother curled his tail around his paws, looking for any potential danger.  
“And I’m Cinder!” The gray she-cat added.  
“Thank you. I’m Fireheart, this is Sandstorm and she’s Thunderflower.”  
“I’ve never come across cats with those weird names.”  
“They’re Clan names. The front part never changes. The back-part changes to reflect what stage of life you’re in. For example, those kits over there splashing about are Featherkit and Stormkit, and that cheeky apprentice currently pelting the tabby with water is called Cloudpaw.” Fireheart told Bright.  
“But why do you have different end names?” Bracken asked.  
“Warriors get a name to reflect their spirits or looks.” Sandstorm added.  
“May we eat?” Cinder asked, shuffling her paws.  
“Oh, sorry! Yes, go ahead. The queens have eaten.” Thunderflower told them. They raced over to the fresh-kill pile, choosing their prey and devouring it in rapid, hungry gulps.   
“Actually, that journey took a bit out of me. They have the right idea.” Sandstorm mewed. Fireheart, agreeing with her, went up to the pile as well. They chose a rabbit to share then settled down near the kits. Cloudpaw had finished splashing Dustpelt and had come up as well.  
“Fireheart, who are they?”  
“These are Bright, Bracken, Cinder and Thorn.”  
“Have they come to stay?”  
“Maybe. It all depends on what they say.”  
“...never wanna be alone.”  
“but...won’t...”   
He could hear conversation drifting over from the siblings. Cloudpaw got up and went to join them. Fireheart smiled, nudging Sandstorm. “Ten to one he has a crush on one of them.”  
“How can you tell?”  
“The way he’s looking at Bright.”  
“Dang, got me there.”  
He pricked his ears. “...Clan’s great... help one another.”  
He decided to butt out, deciding to gather some moss from the Shining Cave in case his apprentice managed to convince the siblings to stay. He gave Sandstorm a lick on the cheek then padded towards the cave, raking bundles of moss from the glowing ceiling. He exited the cave carefully, moving over to the small ledge that allowed him to exit. As he stepped onto dry land again, he picked up speed, before he was running towards camp.  
“Great news!” Cloudpaw told him. “They’ve decided to stay!”   
“That is brilliant news.” Fireheart purred. “In that case, we have a few ceremonies to conduct.”  
He leapt up to the Highrock, causing the four youths to look at him in surprise.  
“Thunderflower, Whitestorm, Bluestorm and Snowfur, step forward.”  
“I, Fireheart, future leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these cats. They have trained hard to understand the way of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turns. However, I ask that they make no promises, as they have upheld the way of the warrior throughout their lives. By the powers of StarClan, I confirm your warrior names. StarClan honors all of your integrity and loyalty and we welcome you as full warriors of ThunderClan.”  
He briefly stepped down, touching his nose to the four cats. Ravenflight started the chant of the four’s names.  
“Thunderflower, is it your wish to give up the name of warrior and join the elders?”  
“It is.” She mewed, hesitantly.  
“Your Clan honours you and all the service you have given to both it and its memory. I call upon StarClan to give you many seasons of rest.”  
“Thunderflower!” Sandstorm yowled, the other cats quickly joining in.  
“Finally, we have four new apprentices. Bright, Cinder, Bracken and Thorn, you have reached the age of six moons and it is time for you to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior names, you will be known as Brightpaw, Cinderpaw, Brackenpaw and Thornpaw.”  
“Sandstorm, Ravenflight, Bluestorm and Whitestorm, you are ready to take on apprentices. You have received excellent training and have shown yourselves to be capable and loyal. Sandstorm, you will mentor Brackenpaw. Ravenflight, you will mentor Thornpaw. Whitestorm, you will mentor Brightpaw. Bluestorm, you shall mentor Cinderpaw. I expect you to pass on all you know to your apprentices.”  
“I will.” All four cats echoed. Sandstorm and Ravenflight were the first to touch noses with their apprentices, swiftly followed by Bluestorm and Whitestorm. The four apprentices’ eyes glimmered with excitement.  
“I’ve collected some moss for this eventuality. Go ahead and make yourselves some nests; Cloudpaw will show you where to go, then you can rest.” His apprentice looked only too eager; he bounded up the trail with the new apprentices not far behind.   
“Want to take that hunting trip?” Dustpelt mewed to Ravenflight.  
“Sure.” The brothers padded away from the gorge, chatting as they went.  
Sandstorm’s eyes glimmered as she walked up to him. “I’m looking forward to training Brackenpaw.”  
“You’ll be a natural.” He promised his mate, twining his tail with hers. The Clan was growing, slowly but surely.


	13. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fern and Ash join the growing Clan.

The next dawn, Graystripe, who was on camp guard, yowled down. “There are a couple of kittypets here! They say they want to see you!”  
He pushed himself to his paws, giving Sandstorm a nuzzle before padding out of the den and bounding up the slope. His paws had grown harder every day he stayed in the gorge.  
“Can you teach us to hunt?” Fern and Ash called, tails waving excitedly. Fireheart chuckled.   
“Of course. Let me wake Dustpelt. It’ll be easier hunting if we go one-on-one.” He moved to the warriors’ den, prodding Dustpelt with a paw.  
“Am I on dawn patrol?” The tabby groaned, pushing himself up.   
“No, you’re going to be hunting.”  
“I can do that any time of day, Fireheart.”  
“Ah, but you’re mentoring someone this time.”  
“I came to recover my strength, not join up.”  
“I know, but we’re rather short of warriors.”  
“Fine. But I’m leaving next sunrise.”  
“Of course.” He dipped his head before leading Dustpelt up to where Fern and Ash were waiting. Dustpelt stopped for a moment. “What’s the matter, Dustpelt?” Fireheart asked. Looking at Fern’s face, she had gone rather pink as well. He smiled knowingly.  
“Alright, never mind. Dustpelt, can you please take Fern? I’ll bring Ash.”  
“Of course.” Dustpelt told him, finally having regained his speech abilities.   
“Alright, Ash, let’s hunt near the end of the river.”  
“That means you’ll be heading towards the waterfall.” Dustpelt mewed.  
“There’s a waterfall?”  
“Of course.” Dustpelt purred. “It wasn’t the best climb I’ve ever had.”  
“Try doing it with two newborns!” Fireheart countered, before leading Ash to hunt.  
“So, what do we do?” The tom asked, fur bristling with excitement.  
“First, get into a hunting crouch.” He clumsily squatted down, several flaws in his position obvious.   
“It’s a good start. You need to get a bit lower and tuck your tail in.” He corrected the young kittypet’s position until he was satisfied.  
“Alright, now I’ll tell you about the fundamentals of hunting. Rabbits and birds hear you before they see you. For mice, they can feel your pawsteps through the ground. So, what do you think you need to do to catch a mouse?”   
“Tread lightly?”   
“Exactly. Now let’s see what you can scent.” He led Ash into a thicket.  
“I can scent you!”  
“Apart from me.”  
“Leaves, grass and... is that mouse?”  
Fireheart inhaled the scent. “Indeed. Try and catch it.”  
Ash stalked towards a bush carefully, obviously concentrating on taking his tips to heart. A moment later there was a scurrying as the mouse burst out of the bush, Ash hot on its paws. He leapt up, slamming himself on the mouse.  
“Well done! Would you like to try some?”  
The kittypet’s mouth was watering. “I’d love to, but my housefolk may get worried... oh, it smells so good, I don’t care!” He tucked into the mouse, devouring it. “It’s so juicy!” He told Fireheart, who chuckled.   
“Indeed, it is. You know, if you came and joined our Clan, you could have this daily.”  
“Could I?”  
“Yes.”  
“But my housefolk will be sad...”  
“They will, but they’ll be okay. Housefolk move on.”  
“Really?”  
“Mine were doing okay when I last saw them.”  
“You had housefolk?”  
“Blood doesn’t determine anything.”  
He took a deep breath. “I’ll join, but if it’s not for me I can go back, okay?”  
“Of course.”   
They managed to get a rook and a squirrel before heading back to camp, jaws laden with prey.  
“Why don’t we eat here?”  
“Remember all the warriors? Not everyone hunts every day. The elders or those with kits don’t hunt, so we must feed them.”  
“Why?”  
“Kits are the life-blood of the Clans. If a clan has no kits or apprentices, it may as well be gone. And elders have given us many moons of service. They deserve the prey.”  
“Fair enough.” They met with Dustpelt and Fern at the slope. Both also carried respectable catches.  
“Good hunting?”  
“I learned so much!” Fern burst out. “Guess what? Dustpelt said I could stay if I wanted to!”  
“Fireheart said that too!” The two bounced about for a second before heading down into camp, where the apprentices were being prepared to go out on a hunt.  
“Father?” Fern asked, catching sight of Whitestorm.  
“Whitestorm’s your father?”  
“He is, only Mom wanted us to have a safe life, so she kept us with housefolk. He still visits once every half-moon, though.” Ash told him.  
Whitestorm glanced up, jaw gaping in shock. “Kits?”  
They raced towards him. “We’re going to join the Clan!”  
“That’s great!” He nuzzled them both fondly, purring. Snowfur looked on happily at her grandkits.  
“Alright, it’s time for your ceremonies.” Fireheart said as the reunion broke up.  
“Fern, Ash, you have reached the age of six moons and are ready to become apprentices. From this day on, until you receive your warrior names, you will be known as Fernpaw and Ashpaw. Ashpaw, your mentor will be Graystripe. Fernpaw, your mentor will be Dustpelt – assuming he stays.”  
Dustpelt shook his head exasperatedly for a second. “You sly fox, Fireheart. Alright, I’ll stay. “  
Laughter exploded from the mingled crowd – only Dustpelt and Fernpaw were unaware of the blushes on the other’s cheeks.   
“Dustpelt, Graystripe, you are ready to take on apprentices. Dustpelt, you have received excellent training from Redtail, while Graystripe, you have received excellent training from Sharpclaw. I expect you both to pass on all you know to these apprentices.”  
“We will.” Both echoed, touching noses with their new apprentices. Ashpaw jerked back in shock before realizing that it was part of the ceremony, while Fernpaw stood frozen for a moment.  
“And Dustpelt, don’t go too easy on her!” He chuckled, watching as Dustpelt’s face lit on fire for the third time that day as Whitestorm led the two new apprentices to fetch moss.  
“When are we going to explore the territory?” Brackenpaw asked Sandstorm.  
“When Whitestorm, Fernpaw and Ashpaw come back. We’ll be able to get a good hunt in as well.”  
“Brilliant!” Ears pricked in delight, Brackenpaw rushed over to tell his littermates.  
“Well, we almost have an apprentice for every cat. I bet Thunderflower won’t have any trouble with finding an apprentice to change her bedding!” Sandstorm purred.  
“Oh, I’ve got a feeling she still would even with all the apprentices in the Clans.”  
“That is true – at least until they hear her stories! Featherkit and Stormkit seem to be there half of their waking time!” Silverstream told them, coming to fetch some prey.   
“So, you’re going to fetch them back?” she asked after a while. Fireheart guessed that Whitestorm was having a heart-to-heart with his kits.  
“No, I’ll leave them be.”  
She chose a trout caught by Ravenflight and sat on a sunny rock.  
ThunderClan was slowly taking shape.


	14. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A terrible accident occurs while a dog chases Cinderpaw.

Fireheart slogged along the dreary forest. The apprentices were all being trained nicely through the half-moon, and it seemed that every patrol he’d stumble upon new evidence of Clan life blooming again. None of the others had reported the same malevolence in the air as he had detected. He was patrolling with Sandstorm near Twolegplace. They needed to try their luck for new cats there, of course, but for the meantime Fireheart was content with what he had.   
In the half-mist, he could see a small figure racing towards a Thunderpath marking the beginning of the forest.  
“Wait! Stop!” He yowled out, but the figure didn’t seem to hear, her fear-scent engulfing Fireheart.  
“Cinderpaw!” He yowled before seeing the source of her fear. A large dog hurried behind her, slavering as it hurtled towards her. They got up onto a fence, yowling for Cinderpaw to join them. She paid no notice. She raced across the Thunderpath just as a bright green monster sped towards her. It let out a screech as Cinderpaw stood in fear, leg still on the Thunderpath edge.  
“Cinderpaw, no!” He cried.  
There was a deathly scream and a nauseating crunch as Cinderpaw fell to the ground. Mercifully, the dog had been spooked by the monster’s appearance and had retreated, leaving its prey behind.  
Sandstorm rushed to the young she-cat's side. “Her flank is still moving! She’s alive!” She breathed.  
“We need to get her back to camp.” They hoisted her onto their backs and carefully moved towards the camp, all thought of hunting out of their minds. Blood trickled down Fireheart’s leg as he moved toward the misty gorge.  
They looked a sight coming down the slope. It was Featherkit who first noticed them, giving a screech of horror. That, of course, let the whole camp know. Bluestorm appeared at the gorge-top a heartbeat later.  
“Cinderpaw! Tell me she’s going to be okay, Fireheart, I just left her so I could bury my squirrel for a moment, I swear...”  
“She’s alive. If what we’ve seen of her is anything to go by, she’s a fighter.” They proceeded downwards, where the other apprentices sat in shock.  
“What happened?” Brightpaw demanded, coming right up to Fireheart. “Who did this?”  
Fireheart sighed. “A dog was chasing her. She was too scared to get up onto a height and ran straight onto the Thunderpath.”  
“I’ll never forgive myself for not staying with her. Oh, why didn’t I teach her about dogs sooner?” Bluestorm lamented.  
“What’s done is done.” Sandstorm told her. “Her fate rests with StarClan now.”  
They carried her into the medicine den, where nests had been prepared already. Laying her down onto the soft moss, the two cats racked their brains.  
“We’ll need cobweb. What did Yellowfang use for infection?”  
“Yellow flower.”  
“Right, that’ll be this then.” Sandstorm told him, scooping out some of the ancient herb. She chewed it into a poultice and applied it onto the leg before binding it with cobweb. She raced out suddenly, bringing back a sturdy stick.  
“To hold the leg in place.”  
“Are you sure you’re not a medicine cat?”  
“Fairly sure. I had a long bout of greencough the leaf-bare before you joined, so I had time to observe a bit.”  
They looked down at the young she-cat for a second. Her face had relaxed from its previous pain and fear filled state. If not for the bindings on her legs, Fireheart would have sworn that she was just sleeping.  
“Sleep well.” Sandstorm told Cinderpaw, touching her nose to the apprentice’s ear.  
“As long as she wakes up.” Fireheart replied, gazing sadly at the young apprentice. Then, work done, they retreated to allow her siblings and mentor in.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Cinderpaw felt her paws hit grass. She stumbled, panting, to the ground, trembling with fear. The dog had almost caught her... She made to stand up but fell quickly again. Bemused, she checked her front paws. They were aching from running, but they’d hold out. She moved onto her hindquarters and gasped. Her back left leg was furless and twisted.   
She placed her head onto the grass and let out a wail. Why didn’t she listen to that voice telling her to climb a tree? It had been that voice that’d told her where to find food, and the voice that had led her to the Clan.  
“Not all is lost yet.” She jerked her head up to find the source of the voice. A ragged gray she-cat had approached her.  
“You’re that voice I kept hearing!”  
“I am. My name is Yellowfang.”  
“What did you mean by ‘not all is lost’? Look at me. I won’t be able to be a warrior now.” She dragged herself to a sitting position, attempting to look respectable.  
“Leg or no leg, your destiny was always different from being a warrior.”  
“What do you mean? Am I meant to leave the Clan?”  
Yellowfang chuckled. “No, hardly. Your destiny is to speak to the stars and heal your Clanmates. You are to become this Clan’s medicine cat.”  
“I heard Sandstorm and Graystripe discussing that. What do I do to be a medicine cat?”  
“You are to learn herbs that heal and use them to treat Clanmates’ injuries. StarClan – that is, us – will send you omens and prophecies to help you guide your Clan, especially your leader.”  
“But I’m an apprentice! An apprentice that was stupid enough to get maimed on the Thunderpath!”  
“I wouldn’t call it stupid. Fear made you act. Besides, you won’t be an apprentice in time, and you’ll have StarClan on your side.”  
“But now what? Do I stay here?”  
“You have two options. You can either stay here and stay alive, taking on the mantle of being a medicine cat, or you can walk away from this meadow and come to StarClan.”  
“You mean I... die?”  
“Exactly. Think carefully, Cinderpaw. I’m not saying life won’t have its troubles, because it will. But life will have its joys, as well. You’re still young. You have all the time in the world to adapt.”  
“I’ll live. I have too much that I want to do to leave now.”  
“In that case, good luck. I’ll see you in your next dream.” Yellowfang touched her head fondly and Cinderpaw lay down on the grass, closing her eyes.

She woke what seemed like heartbeats later. Brightpaw was watching over her intently, Cloudpaw talking to her in a comforting tone. She opened her eyes, prompting a delighted reaction from Brightpaw, who started to lick her ears.   
“Everyone was so worried about you! Bluestorm’s been fretting for days now.” She said in between licks.  
“Don’t worry, I’ve spoken to Fireheart. You’ll always have a place here.” Cloudtail added.  
Cinderpaw smiled. She had made the right choice.


	15. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cinderpaw practices walking again and Fireheart has a conversation with his apprentice.

The day after Cinderpaw woke, Bluestorm was by her side, providing support for Cinderpaw as she tried to relearn walking.  
“Keep going! You’ll get there eventually.” Bluestorm encouraged as her apprentice started to fall for the hundredth time.  
“I’ll never get it!” Cinderpaw cried in frustration.  
“Yes, you will. Remember how you struggled with the leap-and-claw? This is no different.”  
Cinderpaw huffed, trying one more time. To Fireheart’s eye she seemed to wobble less every time.  
Finally, she managed to walk between the two rocks without tripping.  
“See? You got it!” Bluestorm praised.  
“It’ll have been a fluke.” Cinderpaw mumbled, although her mouth curved upwards.  
After a few more tries, Bluestorm stepped back and allowed Cinderpaw to practice alone. She managed to amble to the fresh-kill pile, picking up a chaffinch. She smiled triumphantly as she moved to a flat rock to eat.  
“How’re you doing?” Fireheart asked, moving over to her.  
“I’m doing fine.”  
“You’re very brave.”  
“I don’t feel it.”  
“Cinderpaw, most cats would have been inconsolable.”  
“Yellowfang soon snapped me out of that.” She mumbled.  
“You know Yellowfang?”  
“Her voice guided me here and showed me where to find some food in our most desperate times. She came to me in a dream.”  
Fireheart’s eyes widened. “Cinderpaw, have you ever considered becoming a medicine cat?”  
“Yellowfang told me I should. But how will I do all the things that a medicine cat should do?”  
“Every apprentice starts out inexperienced. Warrior apprentices are no exception. But with the guidance of their mentors, they grow into the role.”  
“You think I will too?”  
“With StarClan on your side? I’m certain of it.”  
Cinderpaw beamed. “She told me she’d meet me in my next dream. I’ve been scared to sleep and tell her that I couldn’t do it.”  
“Everyone here in ThunderClan is rooting for you. You can do it.”  
“Thanks.” Her jaws parted in a yawn. “That took a lot out of me.” She staggered to her feet and slowly walked towards the medicine den.  
Fireheart padded away; he’d promised Cloudpaw and Whitestorm that he’d train with them.  
“We decided to start.” Whitestorm explained as Fireheart moved into the hollow that they’d dedicated to training. Cloudpaw and Brightpaw were sparring, intently gazing at one another.  
“Good!” Fireheart praised his apprentice, seeing a masterful ear swipe. He stopped short as Cloudpaw drew his paw back.  
“What are you doing?” Brightpaw puffed.  
Cloudtail dodged her swipe and leapt at her, which she countered. He swept her down, but stopped just as his prime opening came, a small trace of worry on his face.  
“You know what.” Fireheart called. “You two can stop now. Cloudpaw, I’d like to talk to you.”  
He led his apprentice into a thicket.  
“Why were you going easy on her?” Cloudpaw looked away, trying to back out of the bush.  
“No, Cloudpaw. Tell me why you were going easy on her and I’ll let you go back.”  
“I don’t want to hurt her, okay? Now can we please go back?”  
Fireheart’s eyes softened. “You won’t hurt her. We say claws sheathed for a reason, and the floor is sandy.”  
“But-”  
“Cloudpaw, look. She doesn’t appreciate you going easy on her. Besides, if you give her a good fight now, she’ll be able to go to other, more serious battles with more skill.”  
“That makes sense, I guess. How do you know she’s angered by it?”  
“Cloudpaw, I’ve seen her frustration and I’ve seen similar things with many toms, including me. Thankfully, all of us manage to get it into our numb skulls at some point. Just feel lucky that you’re not getting chewed out by her.” He could still almost imagine his ears ringing from the tongue-lashing Sandstorm gave him when he started to go easy on her as he developed a crush on her.  
Cloudpaw nodded and he let his apprentice aside. He joined them just a heartbeat later to see Cloudpaw pounce on Brightpaw, brushing her exposed belly with a paw.  
“That’s more like it!” He praised, watching in satisfaction as Brightpaw slipped away, nimble as a fish. Cloudpaw took a heartbeat of surprise, then hurled himself into the fray again, weaving around Brightpaw’s outstretched paw and knocking her paws out from under her. He capitalized on his advantage this time, placing a paw on her neck.  
“Well done, Cloudpaw!”  
“That’s better.” Brightpaw laughed, cheeks flushed.  
“Glad you think so.” Cloudpaw huffed.  
“Alright, both of you. We have time for a couple more bouts before dusk.”  
They got into fighting position again.

“That was a great bout!” Brightpaw beamed.  
“Yeah. You’re really skilled!” Cloudpaw told her. “Want to grab some prey together?”  
“Would I ever. I’m starving.”  
“Fireheart, Whitestorm, is it okay if we eat?”  
“Certainly. Thunderflower and Silverstream are eating now, so take your fill.”  
The pair eagerly raced off.  
“How long d’you think it’ll take for them to become mates?”  
“Oh, as soon as they’re both warriors.” Fireheart replied. “That’s really when you can become a cat’s mate. But they’ll have confessed long before.”  
“They grow up so fast.” Whitestorm remarked, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.  
The two mentors went to take their own share of prey, although Fireheart was sidetracked by Sandstorm who flagged him down to share a plump rabbit.  
“Fernpaw’s catch.” Sandstorm told him, biting into the rabbit’s hind leg.  
“They’re shaping up well.”  
“Dustpelt would bring Fernpaw a star if he had to. He’s so patient with her.”  
“And Fernpaw’s pretty eager to please. I’ve heard Cloudpaw complaining about how Fernpaw raves on and on about Dustpelt.”  
“Oh, but Thornpaw usually shuts him up by mentioning Brightpaw.”  
They laughed before they finished the last of the rabbit. “That was tasty.” Sandstorm licked her lips. “StarClan, I’m stuffed!”  
Fireheart licked her around the ears. By this time all of the apprentices were on tick duty, asleep in the dens or out on hunting patrol. He made to get up, following his own apprentice’s decision to sleep, before a yellow shape streaked into camp, Bluestorm hot on his heels.  
“You’ve got to help me!” The cat cried, looking around the camp as though he expected to be attacked. “I know I’m not usually welcome here, but my mate’s locked up and my kits are gone!”


	16. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ThunderClan have gotten a mission to save a cat from the Twolegs, and the kits have a misadventure.

Bluestorm relaxed slightly. “This is Leo.” She told Fireheart. “He’s not usually welcome ‘round these parts because of his father’s actions.”  
“What did your father do?”  
“I think it was something along the lines of him managing to steal the wrong prey from the wrong creature.”  
“Yeah.” Thunderflower came towards them. “That badger wasn’t one to be trifled with.” She flicked her tail.   
“Well, you’re alright to stay here. I don’t know what the other cats around here think, but we won’t kick you out because of your father.”  
The leaves in the medicine den rustled and Cinderpaw squeezed out of the den. Leo looked shocked, his claws curving out.  
“What have you done to my daughter?”  
“Pa!” Cinderpaw yelled, hobbling toward him. Leo snarled at the assembled group.  
“What did they do to you?” Leo asked.  
“Nothing. This was a monster.”  
“Didn’t your mother and I teach you better than to run onto those Thunderpaths?”  
“I didn’t see the climbing points. There was a dog chasing me!”  
“A dog?” Leo asked.  
“Yes.” Fireheart interjected. “We were lucky it was scared off by the monster. She got crippled, but it could have been much worse.”  
“Here. Bluestorm, can you fetch Thornpaw? I’ll get Brackenpaw, he should be almost finished with cleaning out your bedding by now.”  
“Great!” Thunderflower exclaimed. “I can get it out myself. I know this’ll be important to him.”   
Fireheart, meanwhile, moved to the apprentices’ den, where he prodded Brightpaw.   
“Huh? Is it dawn already?”  
“No, but there’s someone here I’ve got a feeling you’ll want to see.”  
“Can it wait till dawn?”  
“No.” Fireheart gave her a shove towards the exit.  
“Alright, alright.” She mumbled, staggering towards the exit. A heartbeat later Fireheart heard an excited yowl.   
“Thank you.” Leo told them as they returned, eyes brimming with moisture. Brackenpaw and Thornpaw pelted down the slope, colliding with Leo.  
After a while he emerged from the tangle. “Frost was taken. I can usually only visit some moons. Well, I came to visit and saw that she was trapped in a horrible Twoleg den. She’s gotten skinnier each time I visit and it’s only getting worse. I’ll only trouble you for as long as it takes to get her out and then I’ll leave again.”  
“You don’t have to leave for your father’s actions.” Fireheart interrupted.  
“Frost and I have gotten on fine in the past.” There was a sad edge to his mew. “We’ll get on fine again.”  
“Alright, if you’re sure.” Sandstorm told him. Cloudpaw, woken by the commotion, came down the slope.  
“Fireheart, what’s going on?”  
Brightpaw hastily explained to him and he hung his head. “But - Brightpaw, I don’t want you to leave!”  
Sadness shimmered in Brightpaw’s eyes as she touched her muzzle to his.  
“Alright.” Cloudpaw told her. “I-if you want to leave then I won’t stop you.”  
Brightpaw whispered something – Fireheart strained to make out the words “don’t want to”.   
Fireheart took a deep breath. “Alright. We’ll take the rest of this night to rest and then we’ll -”  
Silverstream burst out of the nursery. “My kits! They’re not in the nest!”  
All else was forgotten.   
“I told them to sleep, but they had to go exploring!”   
“Alright, Sandstorm, you take the gorge. Graystripe, left forest. Ravenflight – waterf-”  
Cloudpaw had raced off to the right of the gorge suddenly. Fireheart raced to keep up with his apprentice; he didn’t need three young cats lost. Finally, Cloudpaw’s scent led him to a clearing, and the sound of bodies colliding could be heard.  
“What were you thinking?” Cloudpaw spat, bristling. “You should know better than to eat random berries in the woods!”  
Fireheart pushed his way through the bushes, where sticky red juice stained the kits’ paws and Cloudpaw’s flank.  
“I found these idiots about to eat deathberries!”  
“Don’t be too hard on them. You did the same yourself, as I recall.”  
“They could have been killed!”  
The two kits trembled. “Really?” Stormkit asked.  
“Really. You must never, ever touch those again. They can kill a cat easily.” Fireheart responded.  
“We’re sorry.” Featherkit said. “We just wanted an adventure, and then we got hungry-”  
“There’s a reason you kits aren’t allowed out of camp and this is it. Without a mentor with you, you may run into something you can’t handle.”  
“Alright.” They nodded in unison.  
“Cloudpaw, well done. If you could carry a kit; I’ll take the other. Once you’ve cleaned the juice off yourself, I think it may be time for your warrior ceremony.”  
Cloudpaw’s eyes lost some of their worry and sadness as he picked up Stormkit. Fireheart took Featherkit into his jaws and headed back to the gorge. Once there, Silverstream gave a trill of delight. “You found them! Wait – what is that on their fur?”  
“These idiotic furballs nearly had deathberries.” Cloudtail mumbled through Stormkit’s scruff.  
“Brackenpaw, would you be so kind as to fetch Graystripe? And Brightpaw, can you please fetch Ravenflight?”  
The two youths nodded and headed for their assigned locations. Fireheart placed Featherkit into the cool water, hearing her squeak and squirm. “It’s cold!”   
“You should have thought of that before you ran off, hmm?” Finally, the red disappeared from her coat and washed downstream. He placed her on the bank, where she shivered. She was quickly joined by her brother, both of whom Fireheart carried to Silverstream.  
“You’re not leaving the nursery tomorrow. Both of you.”  
“Aww, but - “  
“No buts, Stormkit!”  
“Alright.” Stormkit told his mother before padding into the nest and gaping his jaws in a yawn.  
“And you, Featherkit.”  
Said kit lay beside her brother; a heartbeat later there was soft breathing coming from the nursery.  
Cloudpaw emerged from the water, eyes glowing. Fireheart nodded to his apprentice.  
“Silverstream, you may want to watch this.” He whispered. She nodded and moved away from the kits stealthily.   
He bounded onto the rock; Leo watched with interest as he summoned the Clan.  
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!”  
The clan gathered; Featherkit and Stormkit did not appear. Graystripe, Brightpaw, Brackenpaw and Ravenflight raced to the rockpile; relief shone in both warriors’ eyes.  
“We have two ceremonies to perform tonight. Cinderpaw, you have been mentored well by Bluestorm, but you are walking the path of a medicine cat now so unfortunately, she is unable to mentor you. I call upon StarClan to guide you into the role of a medicine cat.”  
“Cinderpaw!” The assembled cats called, Bluestorm’s voice tinged with sadness but not shock. Fireheart guessed that Cinderpaw must have broken the news to her.  
“Secondly, Cloudpaw, please step forward.” Cloudpaw, white coat groomed to perfection with a hint of shine from the river, sat at the base of the rock.  
“I, Fireheart, future leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code and I commend them to you as a warrior in their turn.”  
“Wait!” Cloudpaw burst out. “I don’t want to be a warrior if Brightpaw can’t be one.”  
“Mouse-brain.” Brightpaw purred. “I haven’t gotten as much training as you. And I can wait for the time it takes until I’m a warrior.”  
“If you’re sure...”  
“I am.”  
Fireheart resumed. “Cloudpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”  
“I do.” Cloudpaw solemnly said, glancing at Brightpaw again.  
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Cloudpaw, from this day on you will be known as Cloudtail. StarClan honors your courage and enterprise and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.” He leapt down, pressing his muzzle to Cloudtail’s while Cloudtail licked his shoulder. He stepped back to allow the Clan to congratulate him.  
“Cloudtail!” Brightpaw yowled, pressing her cheek to his.  
“Cloudtail! Cloudtail!” The cry was taken up by each of his Clanmates until it filled the gorge.  
“It’s almost dawn. Your vigil shall be tomorrow night.”  
“Great, I’m exhausted.” Cloudtail stretched, making his way to the apprentices’ den out of muscle memory. He came out with moss in his mouth and carried it to the edge of the warriors’ den.  
“Fireheart...” Brightpaw approached him. “Even if Father decides to leave, I’m staying.”  
“And Cloudtail has something to do with it?”  
“Do I have a chance with him?”  
“Brightpaw, he’s crazy for you.” Brightpaw’s tail curled up in delight and she raced into the apprentices’ den.  
“She seems smitten.” Leo said, approaching from behind.  
“Oh, they both are.”  
“Am I to guess that she’s staying?”  
“You guessed right. Now come on, we’ll get you a nest for the night.”


	17. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go on a mission to rescue Frost. The Clan gains some new members.

Dawn shone gray from the warriors’ den as Fireheart stretched.  
“C’mon, Leo.” Sandstorm was prodding Leo awake.  
“You’re up early.” He remarked.  
“Yeah. I figured I’d let you sleep a bit.”  
Leo staggered to his feet, jaws agape. “Thanks.” He padded out of the den into the warm glow of the sun. Fireheart and Sandstorm quickly followed suit.  
“I’m coming.” Brightpaw said, a steely glint in her eyes.  
“So am I.” Cloudtail lashed his tail. “I’m ready to fight.”  
“Cloudtail, you’ve had a long day.”  
“So?”  
“You have the vigil tonight.”  
“I’m still coming.”  
“If you’re sure.”  
“Don’t go without me.” Whitestorm purred, leaping down from the warriors’ den.  
“Alright, are we ready then?”  
“Yes.” Cloudtail looked expectantly towards Leo. “Well, lead the way, then.”  
Hesitantly, Leo padded up the slope towards a large cluster of bushes. He pushed his way through, leading them through a worn trail into a clearing, where a Twoleg nest stood. A large garden was next to it, and the acrid scent of fear and the rank scents of dog and rot rolled off it.  
“This is where they kept her?” Brightpaw asked.  
“Yes. I tried to free her as soon as I realised, but the Twoleg just patched the cracks.”  
“I am not leaving this place without her.” Whitestorm vowed, echoed by the others.  
“That Twoleg won’t just open that door.”  
“So, what could?” Whitestorm asked.  
“What if we fought?” Cloudtail asked.  
“Fighting? What do you mean?” Fireheart asked.  
“We fight with claws sheathed. The Twoleg doesn’t seem to be the tolerant type. He’ll open the door to try and do something to us. Then-”  
“We rescue Mom.” Brightpaw finished.  
“Alright, Leo, if you could communicate with her?”  
“Already on it.” He dashed to the window, a part obviously boarded up, softly mewing to someone inside. Heartbeats later, Leo nodded.  
“Alright. She’s ready.”  
“Cloudtail, Brightpaw, you train. Sandstorm and Whitestorm, you come in with me. Leo, wait outside and grab Cloudtail and Brightpaw should anything go wrong, okay?”  
Leo nodded once, retreating to a bush.  
“Ready?”  
The air was rent with hisses and screeches as Brightpaw and Cloudtail rolled over in the grass, looking by all appearances to be locked in a fierce fight. He saw Cloudtail twist and come up behind Brightpaw, which was quickly countered. An old male Twoleg came out of the den, yowling. A large Twoleg object was held in his hand, ragged pelts hanging off him. He was alit with fury, almost frothing at the mouth with rage. Sandstorm and Ravenflight dashed in with him, and a white she-cat lay on the floor of the sordid hut.   
“We’re here to get you out.”  
“I’m afraid that I’m going to slow you. My forepaw was broken in one of my escape attempts.”  
“That’s alright.” Sandstorm mewed. “The Twoleg’s distracted. Lean on me.”  
They limped out to find the Twoleg incoherent with rage, clawing at Cloudtail. His manic gaze shifted onto Frost.  
“Run!” Sandstorm yowled as she lugged Frost along the grass. They made it to the bush, Brightpaw and Cloudtail keeping up; the Twoleg’s yowls subsided.   
“Sorry about that.” Sandstorm said, releasing Frost. “I assume you’re Frost?”  
“That’s me. Wait – Bright?”  
“Hi, Mom.”  
“Are your siblings okay?”  
“They’re doing fine, although-”  
“Although what?”  
“Cinderpaw was hit by a monster. She’s got a crippled leg but she’s doing fine.” Fireheart interjected.  
“How do you know this? Why Cinderpaw?”  
“We are a group called ThunderClan. We found them and took them in. They are being taught to hunt and fight.  
“And Cinderpaw?”  
“She’s taking a different path. She’s learning all manner of healing herbs to heal her Clanmates.”  
“And she still gets to eat, right?”  
“Of course. Even if she was not a medicine cat, she still has the right to eat.”  
“Thank you.” Frost leaned on Sandstorm again and they trekked into camp.  
“Welcome to the gorge.” Fireheart announced as they reached their destination. Below them, Thunderflower was sunning on a rock while Featherkit and Stormkit peered out of the nursery, sulking.  
“Why aren’t they going outside?” Frost asked.  
“They snuck out and almost ate deathberries. They’re confined to the nursery for today.” Ravenflight told her.  
“What was their mother doing?”  
“She’d laid them to sleep. She was asleep herself when they snuck out.”  
“Oh.”   
“Well, anyway, we’ll get you in to see Cinderpaw. She’ll splint that in no time, and you can stay while you recover, and after if you wish.”  
“Thank you.” Frost was escorted into the medicine den.  
“And you, Cloudtail, get some rest.”  
“Alright, Fireheart.”  
Brightpaw looked towards Whitestorm.  
“Want to do some hunting?”  
“Sure.” Whitestorm replied. The pair moved away from the gorge again. Ravenflight broke off to share tongues with Graystripe and Fireheart went to lap from the river.  
After a while, Frost walked out of the den, a large stick prominently tied to her forepaw, and went to sit beside Leo. Noise drifted over, an imploring tone followed by a saddened one, and suddenly one radiating annoyance and then a voice that radiated happiness in every syllable. Fireheart looked up; thirst quenched. Behind him, he could hear the squeals of the kits from the nursery and the sounds of a playful scuffle emanating from the apprentices.   
Finally, Leo came to sit beside him.  
“It’s a lovely place, isn’t it?”  
“It is.” Fireheart replied. “I was worried I’d never see my pads harden!”  
“Every cat here gets used to it.”  
They watched the river ripple for a while longer before Leo spoke again.  
“We’ve talked things over, and Frost and I have decided to join the Clan... that is, if you’ll have us.”  
“Leo, as we’ve told you multiple times, you are extremely welcome to stay. In fact, we can hold warrior ceremonies now, if you want.”  
“Is that the one where your names change?”  
“It is.”  
“Alright. We’ll make that promise.”  
“Excellent!” Fireheart looked towards the warriors’ den, where Cloudtail was soundly asleep. He had a feeling even a horde of badgers would not wake the young tom now.  
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!”  
“I, Fireheart, future leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these cats. They will train hard to understand the ways of your noble code and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Frost, Leo, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”  
“I do.” Frost answered, Leo answering just heartbeats later.  
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Frost, Leo, from this moment on you will be known as Frostfur and Lionheart. StarClan honors your spirit and courage, and we welcome you as full warriors of ThunderClan.”  
“Frostfur! Lionheart!” The assembled cats cheered, none louder than their kits.  
He touched his nose to theirs briefly, then gazed at them again.  
“I’ll explain what I said later. Just be prepared for a long night tonight.”


	18. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frostfur and Lionheart learn more about the life of a warrior.

“So why are you the ‘future’ leader of this Clan? You seem to be the leader already to me.” Lionheart brushed his tail against the cooling rock.  
“To truly become a Clan leader, we commune with StarClan to gain nine lives. StarClan is all of the stars you see in Silverpelt – each star there represents a warrior ancestor.”  
“So, you believe in star-cats?”  
“Precisely that. StarClan send omens and prophecies to the living and guide us.”  
“Alright. What is the warrior code?” Frostfur asked.  
“The warrior code is a set of rules that we live by. We defend our Clans with our lives. Other Clans exist. Regarding them, we may have friendships with those from other Clans, however the Clan comes first. Divided loyalties are tricky to navigate in battle. We do not hunt or trespass on other Clans’ territories unless we need to request help or share urgent news. Elders, queens, and kits eat first. Kits are the Clans’ lifeblood...”  
“Why elders?” Lionheart asked.  
“They have served the Clan many times over and deserve to be honoured for the prey they have caught and the battles that they have fought.”  
“I understand. Now that you say it, it’s a good rule to have.”  
“As well as elders, sick or injured cats may also eat. They need their strength. We kill prey only for eating and thank StarClan for its life. We only make apprentices at six moons old to give kits a chance against full-grown warriors. We had a leader in the old forest who ignored that rule. Countless kits were mercilessly slaughtered...”  
“But that’s horrible!”  
“Brokenstar was a horrible cat. He was driven out and later killed for his evil deeds. New warriors, such as you, keep a silent vigil for a night. This is to help new warriors learn and reflect on their new duties. I believe an elder in SkyClan said it was because the new warriors kept doing stupid things.”  
“Is there anyone else we keep vigil with?” Frostfur asked.  
“Cloudtail was appointed last night. He will guard with you. Moving on, cats cannot be deputy, that is, the Clan’s second-in-command, without first having mentored an apprentice. This is so they understand the welfare of all cats and learn patience. The deputy becomes Clan leader when the leader dies, retires or is exiled, though I have yet to hear of a leader retiring.”  
“But surely that’s natural?” Frostfur interrupted.  
“Oh, you’d be surprised. The leaders’ kits often got the role.”  
“Ah, nepotism.” She scoffed.  
“Yep. And once a deputy is not a deputy for whatever reason, another must be chosen before moonhigh. We had a nasty case of cats who wanted power fighting to their deaths. Mossfoot and Jumpfire, I believe they were called. Or was it Mossfire and Jumpfoot?”  
“Was this in your time?” Lionheart asked.  
“Oh, it was long ago. Elders tend to pass on stories via word of mouth. They may look old, but they remember a lot. We gather at the full moon to share news. We may not have four Clans yet, but we can certainly gather within ourselves. We check and mark boundaries daily to ensure that they are secure and that any trespassers are doing so intentionally. The most important rule in my opinion is the rule that states that no warrior should ignore a kit in pain or danger, regardless of Clan or lack thereof.”  
“I’m extremely glad that rule is in place.” Frostfur commented, glancing at the apprentices’ den.  
“I am too. The word of the leader is the warrior code, although warriors are expected to challenge a cruel leader or one who threatens the Clan. I never understood that one. A warrior does not kill to win battles unless it is necessary for self-defence or to defeat cats who are beyond the code. And finally, a warrior rejects the soft life of a kittypet. From what I have heard that was added recently, when a leader named Pinestar gave up his position to become one.”  
“But surely then kittypets wouldn’t be allowed into Clans?”  
“The Code says life of a kittypet, not blood of a kittypet. I myself was a kittypet, but I rejected that life when I journeyed into the forest for the first time.”  
“So Fernpaw and Ashpaw have done the same?”  
“They have.”  
“I think we understand better now.” Lionheart told Fireheart. “Are we allowed to rest before the vigil?”  
“Go ahead. Cloudtail’s getting some well-earned rest right now, so pick a spot in the warriors’ den, Lionheart. Frostfur, maybe you would be better suited to the medicine den for now. If your vigil causes you pain on that leg, tell me and we’ll move it to when your leg is better.”  
“Thank you.” Frostfur dipped her head, licked Lionheart on the cheek and padded off towards the medicine den.  
Fireheart padded over to Graystripe and Ravenflight, who were playing with Featherkit and Stormkit while Silverstream swam in the camp’s river.   
“Aren’t they meant to be in the nursery?”  
“We decided that missing out on most of their play was punishment enough. Besides, Silverstream was going stir-crazy in there.” Ravenflight explained, before wheeling about to Graystripe.  
“Graystripe, you’re meant to catch the moss ball, not headbutt it!”  
“Hey, why don’t we try a new game?” Fireheart asked the group.  
“What new game?” Featherkit quizzically asked.  
“How about a game called Keep-away? You keep the moss away from a cat. The cat who had it last once the cat gets it becomes the player who you’re trying to keep the moss away from.” Fireheart explained.  
“Great!” Stormkit squeaked.  
“I’ll be it.”  
“Alright, everyone, you’ve got to keep the moss away from Graystripe!” At that, Ravenflight flung the ball over Graystripe’s head. He tried to catch it but stopped short. Featherkit picked up the moss and batted it to Stormkit, who attempted to pass it to Fireheart when Graystripe clawed it out of the air.  
“Nice try.” Graystripe told him, before tossing the moss to Fireheart, who quickly passed it to Ravenflight. He tried to confuse Stormkit by feinting but was foiled when Stormkit jumped at his paws and took the moss squarely from his paws.  
“That was a great move!” Featherkit praised.  
“Beaten by a kit, Ravenflight?” Fireheart laughed.   
“I’d like to see you do better.” The black tom purred.   
Featherkit took a flying leap for the moss flung by Stormkit, barely managing to catch it, however she overbalanced. There was a large splash as she fell into the river. Her head broke the surface as she floated near Silverstream, who scooped up the sodden kit and deposited her squarely on the bank.  
“That’s it.” Silverstream moved towards the group as Featherkit eagerly bounded back, no worse for wear.  
“What’s it?” Graystripe asked.  
“I think we should give everyone a swimming lesson. That river’s not going to disappear, you know.”  
“That is a good idea.” Ravenflight remarked.  
“When shall we hold them?” Fireheart asked.  
“How about tomorrow at sunhigh? That’ll give the warriors on vigil time to rest.” Graystripe suggested.  
“Then it’s decided. Everyone at sunhigh tomorrow will need to learn how to swim.” Fireheart mewed. As the sun slipped below the horizon at last, Fireheart went to collect Cloudtail, Lionheart and Frostfur.  
“Wake up.” He told the toms. “Vigil time.”   
Cloudtail stretched as Lionheart yawned. “That time already?”  
“Yep.” He raced out of the warriors’ den, prodding Frostfur awake.  
“Vigil.” Frostfur blearily opened an eye.   
“Alright, alright! I’m getting up!”  
When all three had assembled outside, he instructed them on what to do. “You are not to talk until dawn today unless it is to fetch me in case of an intruder. Don’t hesitate to fetch me if there is something.” When they nodded, Fireheart led Lionheart and Cloudtail up to the Skyrock, while he stationed Frostfur at the river’s edge.  
“I’ll see you at dawn.” He padded away from the group into the warriors’ den, curling around Sandstorm as he closed his eyes.


	19. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Clan learns to swim.

The first rays of sun shone in Fireheart’s face, making him blearily blink. He got to his paws and trotted down to the river’s edge, where he nudged Frostfur with a paw.  
“Your vigil is over. You can get some rest now, but there’s swim training at sunhigh. You’ll need to have it later, but don’t be alarmed if you see cats in the water.”  
Frostfur, who had been sitting motionless prior, blinked at him gratefully. “Thanks, Fireheart.” She said amid a yawn, Fireheart’s words having barely registered.  
He padded up the slope, where an antsy Cloudtail and a contemplative Lionheart awaited him. “Well done, both of you. Your vigils are over, and you can get some rest.”  
“It feels like I’ve done nothing but rest!” Cloudtail complained.  
“Cloudtail, you’ve been up all night. Get some prey, sleep for however long you need and then we’ve got training.”  
“Fine.” Cloudtail stood up, his sagging head indicating his true tiredness.  
“Great.” Lionheart said, tail swishing against the ground.   
“Oh, and before you’re surprised, Silverstream’s teaching you to swim as the sunhigh training. Be prepared to get river water out of your fur.”  
“Oh, brilliant.” Cloudtail remarked sardonically.   
Fireheart led the two down the slope, where he decided that a hunt would do him good.  
“Hey, Sandstorm!” He called to his mate, who had woken up and was now stretching at the foot of the Rockpile.   
“Yeah?” Sandstorm replied.  
“Fancy a hunt?”  
“Of course.” She purred. “It feels like ages since we’ve done that.”  
They raced to the woods and spent an enjoyable morning hunting, talking, and having some friendly competition.  
“That was great!” Sandstorm remarked, holding the limp bodies of three mice and a squirrel.  
“Yeah, we’re getting better at land prey.” Fireheart replied, holding a blue jay and a vole himself.  
They moved from the forest into camp, where Silverstream was assembling the camp.  
“We get to train like warriors!” Stormkit eagerly cried, bouncing about.  
“Yes, you do.” Ravenflight told the kits. Fireheart and Sandstorm silently dropped their catch on the fresh-kill pile, before joining the group.  
“Alright.” Silverstream said. “The first principle of swimming is to ride the current. Currents are stronger than even the mightiest warriors and tiring too fast by trying to fight it is not a good idea. If you want to move in the opposite direction to the current, move along the bank and get to your destination by land.  
The second principle of swimming is to use your body. Cats will float on water if spread out. So, if you do not want to sink, spread yourself out. If you are diving, tuck your paws and tail in. Another way to quickly break water is to use your paws. To swim, paws are your best friend - that is the third principle.  
Now, if you wish to use your paws to move, spread them out. You are looking to push the water away from where you’re going. Who wants to volunteer to demonstrate?”  
“I’ll go.” Ravenflight offered.  
“Alright. First, I want you to float down to that rock there. Then come out and walk back up here.”  
Ravenflight nodded, padding hesitantly into the water. The current swept him off his paws, and he quickly spread himself out, managing to paddle to the rock. He padded back, water streaming from his pelt.  
“Good job. Now, who’s next?”  
Fireheart stepped up. He flailed in the cold water for a while before regaining his wits and spreading himself out then paddling with his paws to the rock.  
“Not bad.” Silverstream told him.  
Once most of the Clan on the opposite bank, laying down on the dry rocks, Silverstream approached them again.  
“Cinderpaw, Featherkit and Stormkit, it’s your turns. For safety - “  
Graystripe bounded to the rock, nodding to Silverstream.  
“Brilliant. Now, Cinderpaw, swimming will be similar for you. You just use three paws instead of four.”  
“Alright.” Cinderpaw hesitantly mewed, slowly padding in.  
“Spread yourself out.” Silverstream instructed, blocking her from going further by affixing her teeth to the young cat’s scruff.  
Cinderpaw did so, giving a gasp of surprise. “It’s actually pretty easy!”   
“Good.” Silverstream purred. “Are you ready to float down?”  
“Yes.” Cinderpaw replied. Silverstream let go of Cinderpaw, stepping out of the river.   
Cinderpaw maneuvered her forepaws, dragging herself up to the rock. She clambered out of the river, bouncing along to the others.  
“Did you enjoy that?” Frostfur asked, suppressing a purr.  
“I loved it!” Cinderpaw enthused.  
Silverstream had already set the kits up, while Graystripe kept an eye on them floating down. Suddenly, Stormkit dived, causing Graystripe to reach forward. The young tom came up a moment later, a fish’s tail dangling from his mouth. He kept a tight hold of it even as he joined his sister on the rock.  
“You caught a trout!” Graystripe yowled, causing Stormkit to grin.  
“I saw it, so I dived just like Mama taught us to.”  
“Great job! Now nip it there to put it out of its misery. It deserves a quick death.”  
Featherkit and Stormkit did as told; the trout went limp. Silverstream purred as Graystripe carried the fish back to their Clanmates.  
“Well done, you all have a grasp on swimming. Keep practicing, but if you’re not experienced, confident, or you’re not warrior-age, get someone who is confident and a warrior to keep watch for you.”  
She went to sit next to Graystripe, who licked her on the head. “Well, kits, do you want to try?”  
“Yes!” Stormkit squeaked, taking a bite of the watery creature. “It tastes like the river!”  
“What do you expect?” Graystripe asked. “It came from the river!”  
With the sunhigh session over, warriors started padding off to rest, eat or patrol, while Cinderpaw headed to her nest.  
“Yellowfang told me she’d teach me some of the most powerful herbs!” She excitedly said, causing Frostfur to chuckle.   
“She’s spirited, that one.” She remarked to Lionheart.   
“She’s ours; what do you expect?” He replied.  
“That’s very true.” Frostfur told Lionheart, leaning into his side.   
“There seem to be little sign of the rats.” Fireheart told Thunderflower.  
“That is true, but we must remain vigilant.” She replied.  
“We should recruit soon.” Fireheart said, looking around the gorge again.  
“Sure. Why not ask Fernpaw and Ashpaw about Twolegplace?”  
“That’s a brilliant idea, Thunderflower.” Fireheart replied. Tomorrow, he would recruit.


	20. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart, Fernpaw and Ashpaw go to recruit the kittypets, but something goes horribly wrong.

"C'mon!" Ashpaw yowled to his sister as they approached Twolegplace’s fences.  
“I’m coming, Ashpaw. Keep your fur on.” Fernpaw mewed, face illuminated by the post-dawn light. She turned to Fireheart, smiling. “We’ll visit a lot of nests; don’t be surprised if most of the cats decline.”  
“Alright.” Fireheart said. He had already expected that the pampered kittypets of these nests would be hesitant to leave their comforts. They approached the first nest quietly.  
“This is Speedy’s home.”  
“Speedy?”  
“Apparently, it is after his grandfather, or so he tells me. I think it is just ‘cause the guy runs so fast.” Ashpaw muttered.  
“Well, it’s always valuable.”  
“Yeah. He always beat us in races!”  
They jumped the fence, where a brown tabby was sunning in the garden.  
“Fern! Ash! You’ve been gone awhile!” He called. “And who may you be?”  
“We’re Fernpaw and Ashpaw now,” Fernpaw corrected gently. “And this is Fireheart.”  
“Why such the weird names? You two smell like the forest – don't tell me you’ve gone off there... without me that is!”   
“We’re coming to invite you.” Fireheart mewed. “We are ThunderClan-”  
“Like in the stories?”  
“Yep. If you wish, we will hold a meeting in four moonrises at the big gorge – you know the one?”  
“Yeah. Explored it a bit.”  
“Well, you can hear us out there and then make up your mind.”  
“See you then!” He mewed. The trio moved out of the garden.  
“The rest won’t be so easy -” Ash started to mew but was cut off.  
“Well, well, well. Look who comes crawling back.”  
“Peter.” Fern mewed with contempt – Fireheart did not think the apprentice knew contempt’s meaning.  
“Not so easy now, is it? And who is this? Come to train some housefolk? You’ll be hard-pressed; I hear they only take in cats with something to offer.”  
“Well, that can’t be true if you’re standing here with a collar, now can it?” Fireheart mewed amiably.  
“Watch it, you. The Twolegs have the means to take on savages like you.”  
He slunk away.  
“Yeah, he’s a fox-heart.” Ashpaw remarked. “We’d best get on.”  
They visited Lily and Rose next, two sisters who seemed horrified at the idea of losing their creamed chicken. Then it was onto Cedar, a kind-hearted tortoiseshell who wished them luck but did not wish to leave her Twolegs. Then Amanda, a blind and deaf old cat who could barely hear them. By the time they had reached the last nest, where a feisty young kittypet named Kip had told them to get lost, Fernpaw and Ashpaw were racing towards the same nest their mother had been in. The only problem was that she was not there.  
“Her scent’s fresh! I really wanna see her!” Fern yowled, racing towards it. At the same moment, a gray shape bolted out of the trees, desperately running from the nest. Then Fireheart saw her pursuer at the same moment Fernpaw and Ashpaw saw it, racing away from the slavering dog. Fernpaw started to slip, then Brindle appeared behind her, pushing her up and shoving her towards the front of the group.  
“Up here!” Fireheart called, pointing his tail at a large beech. He started to ascend swiftly, Fernpaw and Ashpaw hot on his tail. When he was high enough to be safe, he surveyed the land. The apprentices quivered beside him while Brindle was racing towards the tree. She started to climb, the dog chewing at where she had been a split second ago.   
“I don’t think I can do it!” She yowled.  
“Grab on!” He outstretched his paw, letting Brindle grasp it with his claws as he tugged her up. When she was just shy of the branch, she started to slip.  
“Brindle! Hold on!”  
He was met with eyes that spoke of panic and desperation as her claw slipped from his pawpad and she plummeted from the tree. Fernpaw let out a screech as she hit the ground, while Ashpaw made no audible noise, his jaws simply gaping as the dog attacked.  
Yowling filled the air as Whitestorm, Graystripe and Brightpaw rushed to the scene. The dog turned from its prey, but it was no use; Fireheart could see that the wound was fatal already. Brightpaw lunged at the dog, tearing at its eye; the dog yelped and then growled as she flung herself on. Whitestorm attacked its flank, while Fireheart got the drop on it from behind; Fernpaw and Ashpaw followed his lead, attacking the dog with vigor as Graystripe went for its legs. The dog did not care about the others, though; it was fixated on Brightpaw as it snapped at the cat who had scratched its eye. Within a split second, everything slowed as Brightpaw’s right eye was encased in the dog’s jaw.  
“No!” Whitestorm yelled, leaping onto the dog’s neck. “You have taken my mate. You will not take my apprentice!” He bit the dog around the neck while Graystripe scratched it from below; the dog, realizing that it was outnumbered, fled.  
“My eye...” Brightpaw choked out, half-sobbing.  
“Cinderpaw will help you.” Whitestorm murmured, licking the wound.  
“Fernpaw! Cobwebs, please!” Fireheart yelled out, watching as she ran away, tears streaming down her face.  
“Whitestorm...” Brindle murmured.   
“You’re alive... hang on, we can get you to the medicine den, there’s still time!”  
“The wound is too deep.” She stated. “Take care of our kits.... all of them. I just had a litter and they should be by the cat-flap.”  
“Okay, Brindle...” Whitestorm choked.  
“Graystripe, can you handle Brightpaw?” He asked. When the gray warrior nodded, he continued. “Wait for Fernpaw to come back, get something on her to stem the bleeding and then transport her to Cinderpaw.”  
Turning to Ashpaw, who had something unintelligible shining in his eyes, he asked if he could do anything to help.  
“No!” Ashpaw burst out. “You were supposed to save her – you killed my mother!”   
“Ashpaw-”  
“It’s Ash now. Remember, Fireheart. I will never forgive you for this.” He lashed his tail. “A life for a life.” He stalked off, disappearing into the woods.  
“What’d I miss? Is she still okay? Is Ma still alive?”  
Whitestorm took her aside for a second, murmuring in her ear.   
“So that’s it? He left?”  
“Yes.”  
Brindle started rasping even as Graystripe loaded Brightpaw onto his back and trudged down the trail.  
“Thank you... for protecting my kits.”  
“Would you like a warrior name so you can walk among the stars?”  
“Would it help me to see my kits?”  
“Yes, it would.” Fireheart mewed.  
“Alright.”  
“I ask my warrior ancestors to look down on this cat. She has followed the Code and has given up her life defending her kits. Let StarClan receive her as a warrior. You will be known as Brindleheart.”  
“Thank you.” Brindleheart said, eyes shining with gratitude one last time before she went limp. Whitestorm let out a sob as Fernpaw wailed, an eerie sound that rang through the forest.  
“Whitestorm, please move her to camp for her vigil. Fernpaw, let’s get your siblings.”


	21. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Clan deals with the aftermath of the dog attack.

He padded back the way they had come, tails low. If he looked behind him, he could occasionally see a tear dripping down Fernpaw’s chin as she walked. He did not know what to say to help her, so he just silently kept walking until the nest was in the distance. He leapt up over the fence, waiting patiently for Fernpaw. Fireheart could smell their scents mingled with the prominent smell of dog and the fresh scent of Ashp- Ash, which he took to mean that the former apprentice had visited recently.  
“Ready?” He asked Fernpaw, who nodded mutely. He wriggled through a small door inset into the Twolegs’ door, finding himself in a breezy kitchen. Milk-scent wove through the air, leading them to a basket with three newborn kits.  
“They’re beautiful.” Fernpaw whispered.  
“We’d best get them back.” Fireheart mewed, taking the two gray kits while Fernpaw took the tortoiseshell she-cat.  
They padded through the door before heading back through the forest edge, the mewling of the kits the only noise. They arrived at the gorge crest, where Brindleheart lay, fur woven with rosemary and mint. Behind him, Fernpaw let out a sob. He carried the kits down to the nursery, where Featherkit and Stormkit were napping.  
“Whose kits are these?” Silverstream asked.   
“Mother’s.” Fernpaw replied, placing them into the nest.  
“I’m afraid I don’t have much milk left. But I will try. I’d ask Cinderpaw for some borage, but she’s got her paws full. Did you hear about Brightpaw?”  
“It was the same dog that killed Mother.”  
“So, you were-” Silverstream asked, horror dawning on her face.  
“Yes.” Fernpaw replied.  
“I’ll visit Brightpaw.” Fireheart said, leading Fernpaw away, where she was approached by Dustpelt. He nodded to the tabby and walked into the medicine den.  
“Who did this?” Cinderpaw growled, eyes fixed on him.  
“A dog.”  
“Did you kill the mangy thing? I’d love to line Brightpaw’s nest with its fur.”  
“It ran away. We were too busy trying to get Brightpaw back and be with Brindleheart as she died.”  
“Brindleheart? I thought her name was Brindle.”  
“I performed the dying apprentice ceremony.”  
“Could-”  
“Of course, I can.” He replied. “But I do not want to rob her of a normal ceremony, either. Call me if she takes a turn for the worse.”  
“Of course, Fireheart.”   
Cloudtail burst in, muzzle wet. “Sorry I left. I needed to get a drink.” He wrapped himself around Brightpaw, slowly grooming blood off her fur, avoiding the cobwebbed poultice that Cinderpaw had placed on her eye.  
“That one’s been there for almost all of the time she’s been in here.”  
“And I’m not planning to leave.” Cloudtail added, working on a large patch of red near her muzzle.  
“Cloudtail, you may stay, but I want to see you eating, drinking, and resting, okay?”  
“But what if she-”  
“You won’t be any use to her if you’re starving and exhausted. Leader’s orders.”  
“Alright.” Cloudtail said. “But I’ll stay with her for as long as it takes.”  
“I never doubted that.” Fireheart told him, dipping his head to Cinderpaw. “I’ll go hunting. The Clan is shocked; it needs its strength. And Cinderpaw, may I please have some borage for Silverstream?”  
“I thought she was almost ready to wean her kits.”  
“She’s looking after Brindleheart’s litter.”  
“Oh.” Cinderpaw handed over the borage before going back to her herbs.  
As he left, he could hear his nephew whispering something, and strained to make out what it was.   
“Please, if you just spare her, I’ll believe you exist...”  
He glanced back at the medicine den before padding over to the nursery, weaving around the large boulder, then placing the borage at Silverstream’s paws.  
“I went to visit Brightpaw.” He told her, by way of explanation. When she thanked him, he dipped his head, racing back out into the sun.  
“I heard about what happened.” Sandstorm approached him.  
“I don’t think I’ll be able to rest easy for a while. And that’s excluding the rats... do you think we’re doing the right thing?”  
“StarClan sent us here for a reason. They must believe in us.”  
“Thank you, Sandstorm. You somehow always know what to say. I was going to hunt to try and take my mind off it. Do you want to come?”  
“I’m always up for a hunt, Fireheart!” A trace of levity had returned to her paws as she raced up the slope, leaving Fireheart to trail behind.   
“Think we should try near the undergrowth?”  
“Sure!” She replied. “It’ll give us a good chance to test our skill.”  
“We should train the apprentices there. Undergrowth hunting and fighting and whatnot.”  
“Already one step ahead. I’ve been taking the apprentices to practice there. Brackenpaw’s really coming along.”  
“Good.” He purred. A trace of squirrel caught his attention; he stalked the source until he could see a fluffy tail on a tree. He slowly scaled the tree, swiftly ending its life and bringing it back.  
“Nice catch! Brightpaw will be... oh.” Sandstorm trailed off.  
“We must have faith. Besides, other cats in camp enjoy squirrel too.”  
“True.” Sandstorm told him, immediately starting to pursue a rabbit. The rabbit was quick, but it was obviously unused to predation and fell quickly.  
“Now that’s something that Lionheart and Frostfur might like.” He remarked. “Fat, too.”  
“Well, it is greenleaf.” Sandstorm replied, although she smiled.  
They found three mice and a plump pigeon in the wood before heading back at sunset. There, Cinderpaw was hesitantly scoping the fresh-kill pile.  
“It’s alright to leave her for a bit.” He reassured her.  
“Excellent.” She remarked. “Some good fresh-kill. These kits have been complaining that there is no more pigeon. Silverstream told them prey was prey.”  
“Ah, the fussy eating stage. Cloudtail went through that one.”  
“He did?” Cinderpaw chuckled.  
“Yep. Only ate shrew for a quarter-moon after he was weaned.”  
“Silverstream must have weaned them then.”  
“Yep, just after you left to hunt. They’re quite hungry, those two.”  
“I can imagine.”  
She took the largest mouse and began to devour it.  
“Is Brightpaw okay?” Frostfur asked, coming up to her daughter.  
“With StarClan’s help – mainly Yellowfang’s - she’s stable. She’s not bleeding anymore, although she’s not completely safe yet.”  
“But she has a chance?”  
“Yes. We’re lucky that she was brought in earlier.”  
Frostfur raced to Lionheart, who was worrying the stone of the gorge with his claws, excitedly sharing the news.  
As the sun sank below the horizon, Fireheart called the Clan to attention. “It is time to sit vigil for Brindleheart. Those who are closest will sit vigil, the rest can pay their respects.”  
“But won’t we die?” Brackenpaw skeptically walked up behind him.  
“StarClan, no! A vigil is an ancient Clan tradition to pay respects for the dead, not a death sentence!”  
“But Foxy...” Thornpaw trailed off, walking up next to his brother.  
“Who was Foxy?”  
“A kittypet. I heard he didn’t stay awake when his brother died and next thing you know he was hit by a monster!”  
“I’ve had plenty of vigils in my time. No cat who slept in one died shortly after.”  
“If you’re sure...” Brackenpaw confirmed. At his nod, Brackenpaw padded up to Brindleheart, smoothing an unkempt tuft of fur before heading up to the apprentices’ den.  
Fernpaw and Whitestorm stayed longer, fixing their gazes on Brindleheart while looking up at the moon.  
“Sandstorm, can you guard camp? I’ll relieve you after your shift.”  
“Of course.” She nodded briskly before bounding up to the Skyrock.  
The Clan had suffered, but Fireheart knew that with StarClan’s blessing, they would make it through.


	22. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brightpaw wakes up and the Clan gets some visitors.

The sun came earlier than Fireheart had thought, signalling his cue to step off the Skyrock and head down. Thunderflower had emerged from the elders’ den, taking Brindleheart away for burial as Whitestorm followed. Fernpaw trudged after the pair.  
“No training for her today.” Dustpelt said, coming up to Fireheart’s spot by the river.  
“I agree. Perhaps you could send her to help Silverstream for a bit? StarClan knows that she needs the mothering.”  
“That’s a great idea.” Dustpelt mewed. “Did you see Cloudtail eating tonight?”  
“No. He must’ve been with Brightpaw all night.”  
“Looks as if we’ve got some young love!”  
“Who, you and Fernpaw?” Dustpelt turned scarlet.  
“No, not me and Fernpaw, you mouse-brain!”  
“Just checking.” Fireheart chuckled. “I’ll take a squirrel to him.”  
True to his word, he picked up yesterday’s squirrel and a mouse for Cinderpaw and walked into the medicine den.  
“You must be exhausted.” He told Cinderpaw.  
“I am.” Her jaws gaped in a yawn.  
“Why not rest?”  
“I can’t leave Brightpaw – what if she gets worse?”  
“Cloudtail can watch over her while you rest.”  
“Yeah. Unlike you, I got some sleep last night.”  
“Alright.” Cinderpaw told them.  
“I brought you a mouse, and Cloudtail, I got you a squirrel.”  
“Thank you.” His former apprentice said, curling around Brightpaw.  
“Thanks, Fireheart.” Cinderpaw yawned, retreating to her nest.  
A weak rasping sound from Brightpaw made them all look up.  
“Is she-” Cloudtail began, but stopped short as Brightpaw’s eye snapped open and she jerked awake.  
“The dog...” she mumbled, before she appeared to regain herself.  
“Fireheart? Cinderpaw? Cloudtail? Am I in the medicine den?”  
“You are.” Cloudtail confirmed.  
“Why can’t I see? Cloudtail, why can’t I see in one eye? Is it the bindings, or...”?  
“Well...” Cloudtail started.  
“Tell the truth. I will find out sooner or later. I’m not a kit.”  
Cloudtail sighed. “Fine. When the dog attacked you, it managed to take one eye and ear.”  
“I...” Brightpaw began, tears starting to well in her good eye.  
“I know. I’m here.” Cloudtail licked her cheek. “If it’ll cheer you up in any way, we have a squirrel here.”  
“Want to share?” Brightpaw asked, fixing her gaze on the fresh kill intently.  
“Sure.”  
“Fireheart, does this mean I can’t stay?”  
“You will always have a place in this Clan.”  
“But I’ll never be a warrior.”  
“I’ll train you, if that’s what it takes.” Cloudtail told her. “There has to be some way to do it.”  
“Thank you.” She nuzzled him and he purred.  
“Let’s give them some space.” Cinderpaw whispered, moving from the rock.   
“But you’re exh-”  
“I can easily bask in the rocks. Besides, my parents and brothers will want to know.”  
They padded outside, where Cinderpaw staggered over to her parents. Fireheart, smiling, went up to Sandstorm, who was talking with Graystripe and Silverstream.  
“Brightpaw’s awake.” He told them.  
“Brilliant!” Sandstorm exclaimed. “Have her family been told?”  
“Cinderpaw’s over there with them now.”   
After a minute, Brightpaw, her face set in a small smile, padded out of the den, leaning heavily on Cloudtail for support. Whitestorm, Brackenpaw, Thornpaw, Frostfur and Lionheart rushed over, chattering to the young she-cat.  
Fireheart decided that it was time to call a Clan meeting; both Cinderpaw and Brightpaw seemed to be flagging.  
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!”  
By now, all of the camp’s cats had gathered there already, expectantly.  
“Brightpaw is awake and will be recovering for a bit, but when she is ready both Cloudtail and Whitestorm will work with her to devise a method of fighting which will minimize the disadvantage posed by her eye. If, and when, this method is perfected, it will be valuable for the Clan at large to learn. If we see success there, we will assign warriors to come up with fighting strategies that might work to accommodate other often received injuries or conditions, such as fighting blind, fighting deaf or fighting without a limb.”  
“Brightpaw!” The crowd chanted.  
“Tomorrow, I would also like a patrol to help me visit the rogues. We will be holding a meeting in two moonrises to tell cats about the Clan, and potentially get some cats to join. After the meeting we will start to mark the borders of our Clan.”  
“Meeting dismissed.”  
Fireheart leapt down from the Rockpile, grabbing a chaffinch that Bluestorm had caught while on patrol with Ravenflight, watching Cinderpaw and Cloudtail guiding Brightpaw to her nest in the medicine den. He had just finished it when Sandstorm came up to him, pointing at a trio of figures outlined in the moonlight.  
“Intruders!” She hissed.  
Fireheart unsheathed his claws, gathering Snowfur and Ravenflight. Together, the four of them bounded up the slope.  
“Who are you, and what do you want?” Fireheart asked. Now that he was closer, he could see each cat’s ribs.  
“F-Fireheart?”  
He looked closer. It was a brown tabby... she smelled familiar...  
“Princess?” He mewed.  
“Oh, it’s really you! A patrol of SkyClan cats had told me that you and Cloudpaw went missing after a fire. I’ve been so worried!” Fireheart felt a twinge of guilt; since the fire he’d had too many things going on to visit his sister.  
“We got a sign and we’re making a Clan now. Don’t worry, Cloudtail is safe. StarClan, he’s even well on his way to having a mate!”  
“That’s wonderful!” She purred. “He got his... what’d you call it... warrior name!”  
“Uh, Fireheart, if you don’t mind us butting into this reunion, who is she and how do you know her?”  
“Oh, sorry. This is my sister and Cloudtail’s mother, Princess. Princess, this is my mate, Sandstorm, my friend Ravenflight, and my Clanmate Snowfur.”  
“What are we, canned chicken?” A voice asked from behind Princess.  
“Oh, sorry. Fireheart, meet my daughters, Nami and Taylor.”  
“Nice to meet you.” A brown tabby, very much like Princess, was identified as Nami, while a gray-and-white splotched she-cat was Taylor.  
“Let’s get some food into you and then we can talk more.” Sandstorm told them.  
“That’d be lovely.” Princess replied. “We’re not too good at hunting, being former housecats and all.”  
Snowfur led them to the fresh-kill pile, depleted as it was. “It’s not too big now – everyone else has eaten and the patrols go out at dawn.”  
“It’s more than we’ve had in three days.” Princess replied, settling with a small bluebird and making sure her daughters picked out juicy prey as well.  
“So what brings you here? I thought you were happy with your Twolegs.” Fireheart asked.  
“My housefolk’s home burned down and the fire spread to Nami and Taylor’s houses. We don’t know what happened to our Twolegs. We just ran away.”  
“How awful!” Sandstorm remarked.  
“Fire season, I guess.” Nami remarked. “Either that or fate has just decided that it hates our bloodline.”  
“If that was so, we wouldn’t have discovered them.” Taylor pointed out.  
“I guess you’re right. It was a dry greenleaf, wasn’t it?”  
“It was that.” Sandstorm remarked.   
“Shall I call Cloudtail?” Fireheart asked.  
“Thank you, that’d be lovely.” Princess purred.  
He made his way into the medicine den, where he tapped Cloudtail on the shoulder with his tail.  
“What? Is it dawn or something?”  
“You’re not going to believe this, but your mother’s showed up with two of your sisters.”  
“Really?”  
“Would I lie about it?”  
“I’m coming.” He leaned down to Brightpaw. “I’ll be back soon.” Brightpaw grunted in acknowledgement, rolling over in her sleep.  
“Have you confessed?”  
“When you left the den.”  
“About time.” He remarked, bounding out of the den with the white warrior hot on his paws.  
“Cloudp-tail!”   
“Mom!” He barreled into her, licking her cheek.  
“Oh, I've been so worried!”   
“Me too, mom. Have you eaten? You look half-starved!”  
“I have. Do you remember your sisters?”  
“Vaguely.”  
“Well, this is Nami, and this is Taylor.” She gestured to each in turn.   
“Nice to see you.” Cloudtail told them.  
“You smell of herbs. Was that the medicine den you came away from?”  
“Yes. Don’t worry, I’m not injured or ill... my mate got attacked.”  
“How awful! Is she...?”  
“She’s woken up and Cinderpaw thinks she’ll be fine. She’s just recovering. To prepare you guys... she was attacked by a dog. It took her eye.”  
“Her...”  
“Yes. When she recovers, we’ll work with her on one-eye fighting techniques.”  
Fireheart looked up at the night sky. “It’s late. Would you like me to get you some nests?”  
“That’d be great.” Princess yawned.   
“One more thing. If you’re staying, we’ll give you Clan names as well.”


	23. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Princess, Nami and Taylor get Clan names. A ThunderClan delegation visits the rogues.

Fireheart was getting used to waking up curled around Sandstorm, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love it whenever he woke. The addition of his sister three nests away, however, was something that shocked him at first when he opened his eyes.   
“Morning.” He mewed when he had woken up enough to remember the events of the previous night.  
“How do you sleep so well with so many cats?”  
“It’s something you get used to. I had the same problem; now it’s disconcerting to be without my Clanmates. I’ll gather the Clan for your naming ceremonies. I’m not going to give you full warrior names just yet if that’s okay.”  
“Alright... “  
“You’ll get an apprentice name each and a mentor. Once you’ve learned hunting and fighting skills, you’ll gain your true names.”  
“Oh, okay.”  
“So, anyway. I think your kits need a wakeup call.”  
“Right!”  
“Come on, time to get up...” When neither moved, she sighed exasperatedly at Fireheart.  
“Hang on. I’ve got an idea.” He leant down, softly barking “Fox!” in their ears. The two jumped up, bristling, only to relax a heartbeat later. “You two have good reflexes!” He praised.  
“Did you have to do that?”  
“Well, do you want your names or not?”  
“Alright.” The small party travelled to the river, where Fireheart leapt up onto the rock and called the Clan.   
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!” Featherkit and Stormkit burst out of the nursery, followed by an exasperated Silverstream.  
“Not you.”  
“But we wanna watch!”  
“Yeah, and I caught a trout!” Stormkit mewed.  
“Not now. You’ll have plenty of Clan meetings in your life.” She herded them back to the nursery and sat just beyond the boulder.  
“Princess, Nami and Taylor, you are all ready to become apprentices. From this day on, until you become warriors, you will be known as Doepaw, Branchpaw and Stonepaw. Your mentors will be Graystripe, Snowfur and Bluestorm, and I expect them to pass on all they know to you.”  
“Touch noses.” Sandstorm whispered to the ex-kittypets, who did so gingerly.  
“Doepaw! Branchpaw! Stonepaw!”  
The three seemed surprised to have their names chanted, but quickly smiled.  
“Now what, Fireheart?” Doepaw asked.  
“You train with your mentors and learn all about hunting and fighting, performing duties such as helping the elders with bedding or ticks or bringing prey to the queens or elders.”  
“That seems like a lot.”  
“Trust me, it’ll seem better once you’re actually doing it.”  
“Alright then.” Branchpaw mewed.  
Doepaw noticed Cloudtail padding over to a ginger-and-white warrior, scarring prominent on her face.  
“Is that...” she asked.  
“Yes, that’s Brightpaw.”  
“This is the life of a warrior. Much as we try, we can’t keep everyone safe. We just need to move on and adapt with whatever it takes.” Graystripe commented to his new apprentice.  
“...So, what’re you doing to adapt?”  
“Cloudtail and Whitestorm are going to work on some moves with her. Matter of fact, I think they’re starting now.”  
Cloudtail waved his tail at his mother and led Whitestorm and Brightpaw up the slope to the training hollow.  
“I think your mentors are trying to get your attention.” He smiled as Bluestorm and Snowfur beckoned their apprentices to them, moving over to Frostfur.  
“Are you ready to visit the rogues?”  
“Sure! I was going to go hunting but I think Lionheart and Dustpelt have that covered.” She gestured to the two, who were heading off into a bush which led to a prey-rich neck of the woods.  
He called to Sandstorm, who eagerly bounded over.   
“Great, we’re recruiting!” She swished her tail. “I could do with a good excursion, just let me assign Brackenpaw to the elders.” She raced over, talking to the apprentice. He nodded and headed towards the Shining Cave as Sandstorm padded back.  
“Are we all ready?” Frostfur asked. At their nods, she started up the slope, leaving them to follow.  
At the forest, she stopped. “Alright. We’ll visit Mouse first.”  
They came to a hollow trunk, where a brown pelt could be seen gnawing on a vole.  
“Hi, Mouse!”  
“Frost! I haven’t seen you in ages!”  
“I was taken by that Twoleg. You know the one?”  
“Some cat oughta teach him a good lesson! Him and his dogs!”  
“Dogs?” Fireheart asked.  
“Yes! He got a new one, didn’t you hear? Vicious brute was looking all pleased a couple sunrises ago. Wonder which unfortunate creature got in its way.”  
Frostfur suddenly bristled with anger. “That dog... I bet you anything that it was what caused Brightpaw’s injury and Brindleheart’s death.”  
“Wait, what?” Mouse asked.  
“We obviously have a lot to catch up on. This is Fireheart and Sandstorm. They belong to a Clan, and so do I. Do you remember the legends of ThunderClan?”  
“Any kit with one working ear remembers that story.”  
“It turns out they’re real. They took my kits in after I was gone and Lionheart – or Leo as you know him - was out, for obvious reasons. Then they got together to rescue me.”  
“From the odd names, did he join?”  
“Yep. I’m Frostfur now.”  
“And what do these Clans do?”  
“We’re holding a meeting on precisely that in a moonrise. Long story short, a Clan cares for its members and tries to live honorably.”  
“Hmm, protection, you say. I could get into that. ‘S been awhile since I protected anyone.”  
“Since Sparrow died and Speedy was taken?”  
“Precisely.” A small amount of hurt came into her eyes, quickly fading. “I’ll be there.” She nodded to them as they turned tail to visit another.  
“This next one is Thistle. He’s not very friendly, but maybe...”  
“What are you doing here?” A spiny-pelted gray tom loomed above them.  
“We were going to extend an invitation.” Fireheart mewed.  
“For what? I have no reason to talk to you scum.”  
“Well, if you’re going to be like that.” Frostfur snarled, moving away. “Oh, and by the way, Whitestorm would say hello, but he still hates your mangy pelt.”  
“You dare bring my son into this?”  
“I dare.” Frostfur challenged. “It’s three versus one. Do you really want a clawed ear?”  
He reared up, but Frostfur was faster, leaping onto his back. Fireheart and Sandstorm raced to join. Fireheart scratched his muzzle while Sandstorm raked her claws down his exposed stomach. Frostfur, true to her word, nicked his ear severely.  
Thistle scowled at them, before padding away, blood streaming from his ear.  
“Sorry you had to see that. As you probably heard, Whitestorm’s his son. Snowfur caught him picking on a kittypet a bit after his birth and she broke up with him. I’ll never forget their battle.”  
“You were there for it?”  
“Once Thistle fights, everyone’s there for it. He is not the most well-liked cat. I think cats just want to see him clawed down a notch.”  
True to her word, a pair of cats walked out of the bushes.  
“You got him good!”  
“Ah, that flea-pelt just needed a few insults before he was blinded by rage.”  
“You always were the fighting one, Frost.”  
“Hey, what can I say, Speckle? When a good portion of respected cats hate my mate, claws are often a big factor in the equation.”  
“I wish I could’ve jumped in!”  
“Well, Lavender, perhaps he’ll come for round two so you can eat your heart out!”  
“Yeah. Who are the cats with you? They’ve got some sharp claws.”  
“I’m Fireheart.”  
“Sandstorm. We’re from a group called the Clans, and we’re recruiting. Come to the big gorge at moonrise tomorrow and we’ll tell you more.”  
“Alright.” Speckle mewed. “It’ll be good to sharpen my skills and have someone there to look out when I can’t. Especially with...” She stopped short, as if she had revealed too much already.  
Fireheart decided not to push. “We’ll hopefully see you at the gorge then. As well as anyone here who’s watching.” He addressed the trees. A rustling copse in the left gave away the position of one cat; Sandstorm nodded to the bushes and padded away with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I wish I had an excuse other than 'I forgot'.


	24. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rogues and kittypets arrive to swell the Clan's ranks.

A silver shape outlined the gorge in the darkness; the moon had risen. The Clan was assembled at the gorge’s bottom, talking amongst themselves. Fireheart could hear Doepaw talking to Cloudtail about her first catch, while Brightpaw enthused to Thornpaw about how she had managed to trip Dustpelt with the latest move. Featherkit and Stormkit were of course getting under every warrior’s paws, but Sorrelkit, Rainkit and Sootkit were curled up by Silverstream’s paws, ignorant of the cheerful chaos surrounding them. Whitestorm bent down to lick the kits’ heads as Fernpaw quietly stood guard.   
The shape of a cat appearing in the moonlight made them all look up.  
“Come on, we won’t bite!”  
“Well, I certainly hope you won’t.” Mouse chuckled, a kit in her jaws. She was soon followed by Speckle.  
“You have kits?” Fireheart asked, once the she-cats had made it down the slope.  
“Oh, not me. These are Speckle’s kits.”  
“So that was who you were talking about!” Sandstorm said, smiling. “Well, your kits are safe with us. Silverstream’s over there – she's the mother of these rambunctious scamps. Featherkit, Stormkit, come back here!”   
The pair, who were attempting a moonlit swim, sheepishly pulled back.  
“Who are you?” They squeaked.  
“I’m Speckle. This is Mistle and Snow.”  
“May I play? Please!” Mistle asked.  
“Of course, dear. Just mind your brother.”  
“I will!”   
“There’s a good girl.” She set Mistle down as Mouse put Snow down. Immediately, the young kit started to motion to her brother, gesturing towards Featherkit and Stormkit.  
“He’s deaf.” Speckle explained. “And I won’t tolerate any lesser treatment because of that.”  
“You have my word that I won’t.” Brightpaw, curious, padded over to the playing kits, Cinderpaw close behind her.  
“You’re...”  
“Yeah.” Brightpaw answered Speckle. “Mangy mutt. But now I’m training with my mate and my mentor to work on some stuff that should work with one eye.”  
“And I’m discovering how to heal my Clanmates as a medicine cat.”  
Paws thrummed against the ground as a pair of shapes dashed into the gorge.  
“How are you so fast?”  
“Practice, my dear. Practice.”  
Mouse’s jaw dropped.  
“Speedy?”  
“In the flesh.”  
“But you were taken!”  
“Only to the Twolegplace.”  
Mouse laughed, brushing her brother with her tail.  
“And everyone knows I’ll be ignored.”  
“Lavender, why didn’t you tell me?”  
“I only met up with him as we were going to the gorge, just now. Before then I had no idea that he was here.”  
“Alright.”  
A dark shape demurely padded down the trail; Fireheart was surprised to recognise Peter. Behind him came a brown-speckled tom, who hissed at Lionheart.  
“Alright,” He started. “Now that we’re all here, I wish to tell you about ThunderClan. It is your choice whether you wish to join or leave. I only ask that you hear me out.”  
“What’s he doing here?” The speckled tom hissed.  
“Lionheart is a member of this Clan. He is respected and welcomed here, no matter what his father did.”  
“That cat is bad luck. I bet your ‘Clan’ will be disbanded within the moon.”  
“Believe what you wish, but we will not kick out a Clanmate solely based on what cats think of them.”  
The tom spat at him, angrily stalking around to the exit, and leaving.  
“As I was saying, I only ask you hear me out. In a Clan, every cat is cared for, from birth to death. Kits and queens are fed first. Warriors patrol borders and hunt prey for their Clan, while apprentices are trained by a mentor, a warrior assigned to help them in their own journey.”  
So far, he had mentioned only the practicalities of Clan life, and he could see the prospective members nodding amongst themselves. Would these cats respect the less-logical parts as well?  
“Elders, those who have retired from duties, are fed with the queens, kits and sick cats. They have given their lives in the service of their Clan, so they are cared for. Those who are so inclined become medicine cats. They heal their compatriots and speak with ancestors.”  
“Ancestors?” Mouse asked.  
“In the sky, there are many stars. Many of us believe that there are warrior ancestors inhabiting them, the spirits of warriors who have died. I am not asking any of you to believe in them. “  
“Oh, star-warriors!” Peter yowled mockingly. “Give me a new collar and a bowlful of tuna!”   
A small cloud drifted across the moon; one of the stars began to flare. Fireheart guessed that was Yellowfang, bristling with indignation at Peter.  
“But anyway, the Clans care for their members. We share prey so even on a cat’s unluckiest day they have food. We live to protect our members.”  
“I’ll join.” Speckle mewed. “My kits need safety, and this seems the best place to find it. Besides, it’ll be nice to have some camaraderie.”  
“So will we.” Mouse and Speedy mewed as one.   
“I’m joining too. I don’t want my friends running off without me!” Lavender flicked her tail.  
“And you, Peter?”  
“I only came down to see what harebrained ideas you’d come up with! Crazy, the lot of you. Well, I’m going to get myself a decent meal.” He padded up the slope.  
“We wouldn’t want you anyway!” Lavender yowled.  
“Have you eaten?” Fireheart asked.  
“Goodness, no.” Speckle said. “It’s been such a long day...”  
“We have some leftover prey there. The pile’s usually bigger this season, but everyone’s taken their fill.”  
“Thank you.” Speedy and Mouse padded over too, but Bluestorm stopped them with a paw.   
“Wait.” When Speckle had chosen her meal, she dropped her paw. “Elders, queens and kits first, remember?”  
“Oh yeah.” Mouse said. “Sorry.”  
“You’re still learning.” Bluestorm reassured her.  
“May I get something?” Lavender asked.  
“Of course.” Fireheart mewed, prompting them all to rush over. Bluestorm stopped Lavender as well.  
“What’s the matter? The queens and elders have all eaten, right?”  
“Sorry.” Bluestorm said, looking at her closely. “You just bear such a resemblance to my father.”  
“Who is your father?”  
“Storm.”  
“You’re joking, right? He’s my father!”  
Thunderflower padded up. “Yes, I recognize Storm in you. But also, a bit of Dapple.” Her eyes grew far away for a moment before Lavender spoke.  
“Does that make us half-sisters?”  
“I guess so.” Snowfur padded up.   
“Alright, now that we’ve sorted the family ties, you can eat. Stonepaw, please go with Thornpaw and Brightpaw to fetch some moss.”  
“Okay.” Stonepaw nodded and let the siblings take the lead to the Shining Cave.  
Lavender took the last piece of prey, a crow with a broken wing, and settled near Bluestorm and Snowfur, trading stories with them.  
“We shall hold ceremonies tomorrow.” He announced over the crowd.  
ThunderClan had grown; it was now time to train the recruits.


	25. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new joiners get Clan names and start to settle in.

The dawn had only just broke, but already all the cats of ThunderClan were up. Mistle, Featherkit and Stormkit were attempting to teach Snow the rules of moss-ball, while Silverstream and Speckle got better-acquainted over a piece of fresh-kill. Frostfur and Lionheart were watching Brightpaw, Thornpaw and Brackenpaw playfully wrestle.  
“Weave, Brightpaw!” Whitestorm yowled to his apprentice, who nodded tacitly and promptly managed to confuse Thornpaw and knock him on his back.  
“She’s coming along well.” Sandstorm remarked.  
“Yeah, she really is. Brackenpaw and Thornpaw are skilled as well.”  
Indeed, Thornpaw had changed focus, leaping at Brackenpaw when he was sparring with Brightpaw. Lavender laughed as she teased Speedy, who was trying to retort through his embarrassment. Mouse watched the sparring session, albeit with an ear to the pair’s conversation.   
He leapt onto the Rockpile, watching Clan life go on for a second before calling everyone to attention.   
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!”  
Instantly, the apprentices broke apart, sitting to attention. The kits sat by the edge, listening into the meeting, while Mistle jabbed her tail at the rocks at her brother’s quizzical look.  
“Mouse, Lavender, Speckle, Speedy, please step forward.” They did, eagerly awaiting the next step.  
“Warriors of StarClan, I ask you to look down upon these cats. They will work hard to understand your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turns.”  
“Speedy, Speckle, Lavender and Mouse, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”  
“We do.” They chorused.   
“Although, we’ll need to learn the code...” Speckle mewed.  
“It’s alright. Many of us are learning as well.”  
Seeing her relax, he continued.  
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Mouse, Lavender, Speckle and Speedy, from this moment on you shall be known as Mousefur, Lavenderfur, Speckletail and Runningwind. StarClan honors your courage and curiosity and we welcome you as full members of ThunderClan.”  
“Mousefur! Runningwind! Lavenderfur! Speckletail!”  
Mistle motioned something to her brother, watching his tail curl in delight.  
“We want new names too!” Snow outburst.   
He nodded his head, beckoning the kits with his tail. “Alright then.” He leapt down, touching each kit with his nose. “I, Fireheart, future leader of ThunderClan give these kits new names. From this day on you shall be known as Snowkit and Mistlekit.”  
“Snowkit! Mistlekit!” The cry was more of a fond purr this time, as Featherkit and Stormkit tackled their new denmates, inviting them to continue learning moss-ball.  
“What now, Fireheart?” Runningwind asked. “I don’t even remember much about how to hunt!”  
“Ask someone to train you.”  
The tabby looked unsure, but Fireheart padded over to Sandstorm.  
“What have you got planned for Brackenpaw?”  
“I was thinking of taking him out on a hunt.”  
“Brilliant. If you wouldn’t mind, would Runningwind be able to tag along? He’s a bit unsure.”  
“Do you even need to ask?” Sandstorm responded. “I’ll find him now.”  
“Make sure you don’t tire him too much, remember his vigil.”  
“Will do.” She walked over to the brown tabby, mewing something.  
“Hey, Frostfur, Lionheart.” Mousefur mewed as Lavenderfur bounded over.  
“Hi! Would you guys like to start learning the warrior code?”  
“Shouldn’t we be helping?”  
“You need to sit a vigil tonight. I’d save my strength if I were you.”  
“What about Runningwind?”  
“He’s just getting some hunting tips. Don’t worry, Sandstorm’ll make sure he’s fresh for his vigil.” Fireheart padded over to the group.  
“Brilliant. In that case, I should get Speckletail.”  
“I’ll run over.”  
“Hey, you’re wanted for a Warrior Code lesson.”  
“Oh, alright then.”  
“Can we learn too?” Mistlekit asked.  
“Of course.” Speckletail purred. “I’ll see what I can do for Snowkit.”  
“We’ll need to come up with some form of signal to get orders to Snowkit quickly.” Fireheart said. “For battle, I mean. For now, can he read cats’ mouths?”  
“Can I read mouths?” Snowkit sounded out slowly, bemused. “Did I get that right?”  
He nodded. “Yes. You’re going to learn about the warrior code.” He said, slowly but clearly so that the kit could keep up. “Frostfur and Lionheart will talk to you about it. I’m sure they won’t mind repeating anything.”  
“Alright.” Snowkit said. “I think I have it.”  
“Brilliant!” Speckletail purred. “I thought of that, but I guess when I tried, I exaggerated too much.”  
“Yeah, it was hard to work out the context, too.” Snowkit replied.  
“Keep practicing with different cats. We’ll work out something for battle.”  
The kit’s eyes lit up and he bounded off with Mistlekit to the mini lesson.  
“Aw, but we were just gonna win!” Featherkit pouted.  
“They’re learning the Warrior code. For now, do you want to have a swim?” Silverstream asked.  
“Yes!” They mewed.  
“I think I’ll get in on this too.” Cinderpaw mewed. “I’m quite hot and I do love swimming.”   
“Where’s Fernpaw?” Fireheart mewed to Dustpelt, who he had just noticed.   
“Elder duties.”  
“Ah.” He knew that Thunderflower had been rather grumpy this last sunrise. “Poor her.”  
“Yeah. Apparently, it was because some nasty ticks managed to infest her.”  
At that moment, Fernpaw padded downstream from the kits and submerged her paws in the river.  
“Oh, how I hate mouse bile.” She grumbled.   
“Would you like to do some battle training to forget about it?” Dustpelt asked.  
“Yeah! You promised to show me that dog-swiping move.” Her claws had unsheathed and Dustpelt’s voice grew more solemn.   
“Well, in these times it certainly couldn’t hurt.” He padded away with her. Fireheart recalled the dog, a shiver placing his fur on edge. Maybe some battle training would not go amiss in helping the new Clan. He suddenly felt ice down his spine and turned to see a pair of beady eyes disappearing into the shadows.  
As good as ThunderClan had it, there were still threats in the gorge. He raced up to the site, seeing it empty but filled with rat-scent.  
He made a note to himself to get the Clan together for battle training next sunrise.


	26. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle training commences and borders are marked.

Fireheart watched in satisfaction as Brightpaw managed to evade Whitestorm’s attack, weaving under his outstretched paws to flip him onto his stomach. He was still tired from the last bout when it had been Sandstorm moderating the fights instead of him.  
“Nice!” He praised them both. “Whitestorm, you may want to brush up on working with smaller opponents. Brightpaw, remember to keep yourself guarded. Speed is important, but so is defense. You both put up a good fight, and I can honestly say that if ThunderClan comes through this, we’ll be looking at four new warriors.”  
“Brilliant!” Brightpaw mewed. “Whitestorm, can you please work with me on some defense? “  
“Of course.” He mewed. “It’ll be good practice for me, as well.” He got into a battle stance with Brightpaw again.  
“Hey, Lavenderfur! Is this what you were expecting?” Frostfur panted as she neatly dodged an off-balance blow from the gray splotched she-cat.  
“Not exactly.” Her combat partner wheezed.   
“You’re doing well, Lavenderfur. You certainly have the basics down.”  
“Yeah, now I just need the advanced stuff!” She puffed, leaping over Frostfur’s outstretched paw and forcing her to turn around to face her.  
“How is it, Cloudtail?”  
“Oh, just dandy, Fireheart.” He mewed, an edge to his tone. It was not hard to see why- he was paired against both Mousefur and Speckletail, both competent fighters. In the edge of the hollow, Cinderpaw kept the kits occupied, playing games of their own.  
“I’d forgotten how fast you were!” Dustpelt exclaimed, hitting the sand as Ravenflight artfully dodged a blow.  
“How am I doing, Fireheart?” Doepaw asked as she sparred against Fernpaw.  
“You’re getting there. Remember to use your attributes against her.”  
“Alright!” She called.  
Behind her, Sandstorm was engaging Graystripe, while Silverstream took on Stonepaw and Branchpaw. Thornpaw and Brackenpaw were in the centre of it all. Fireheart surveyed his Clan proudly for a moment before yowling above the crowd.  
“Alright, stop. Fights are decided based on who’s got the most advantageous position.”  
Around him, cats were pushing themselves up, relaxing, or sighing in relief as the attacks stopped.   
“Well done, everyone. You’re certainly improving. Have a rest and then Graystripe will send out sunhigh patrols.”  
The group dispersed, Silverstream and Speckletail talking happily as they shepherded their kits away, Cinderpaw and Fernpaw carrying the youngest kits.  
“Actually,” Fireheart mewed, moving beside his friend. “We need to mark ThunderClan borders. Can you spare some for that patrol? If possible, I’d like a mix of gorge-born and former Clan cats.”  
“Will do, Fireheart.” He disappeared into the bushes that led to the trail. Already from his vantage point Fireheart could see groups of cats drinking from the river as if their lives depended on it, and he hurried to join them.   
The water was refreshing on his tongue and he lapped it greedily until his thirst was quenched before stepping back to allow the next group of cats to drink from the slope. Once the last group had had a drink, Graystripe assigned Runningwind, Lavenderfur and Snowfur to one hunting patrol while placing Whitestorm, Fernpaw and Dustpelt on the other.   
“Sandstorm, Graystripe, Brackenpaw, Mousefur, Bluestorm, I’d like you for a special patrol.” He called.  
“Alright.” They replied, curiosity burning in all but Graystripe’s eyes.  
“So, what are we doing?”  
“We are going to be ThunderClan’s first border patrol.”  
“But we don’t have borders!” Mousefur said.  
“We’re going to set some.”  
He led them away with a flick of his tail. Around halfway through, Brackenpaw’s stomach let out a large growl. The ginger tom looked abashedly to his belly.  
“Can we please hunt soon?” He finally asked.  
“Of course. We’re the border patrol; we can hunt now for ourselves.”  
Brackenpaw’s eyes lit up; he disappeared into the bushes. A heartbeat later there were two squeals cut short and he came out proudly holding a mouse and a vole.  
“For you.” He dipped his head to Sandstorm as he nudged the vole towards her.  
“Brackenpaw, it’s your catch. You’re obviously hungry, just eat your prey!”  
“At least take the mouse. I’d never know how to do this if not for you.”  
“Alright then.” Sandstorm purred, letting her apprentice wolf down the vole hungrily.  
“How’d you get two in one go, anyway?” Graystripe asked. “It’s impressive when it’s not a family you’re catching.”  
“I found them fighting over a scrap of food. They were so distracted that it wasn’t hard.”  
“Either way, very well done. You certainly have a warrior’s hunting ability.” Fireheart praised. Brackenpaw beamed as he buried the bones of the now-eaten vole.   
Fireheart moved the patrol to a glade not too far from the camp. “We should set the markers here. This way cats know to stay away.”  
“Do cats respect them, though?” Mousefur asked.  
“Clan cats think twice, and if we build a reputation the rogues will start to realize as well.”  
“We should try to be civil, first.” Bluestorm pointed out. “Many of the cats here were like us a moon ago.”  
“Fair point.” Sandstorm mewed.   
Fireheart set the first scent marker carefully, letting all the cats see how he did it.  
“That’s not very strong.” Brackenpaw remarked, giving it a cursory sniff.  
“Scents build over time.” Sandstorm answered. “Twice-daily markings mean that over moons you get a really strong scent.”  
“Great!” Brackenpaw purred. “May I set the next one?”  
“Sure, go ahead. You saw how Fireheart did it, now go ahead and try on that large bush.”  
They continued downstream, stopping at the edge of the waterfall.  
“You travelled through here?” Bluestorm asked.  
“Yep. It was hard to get a good pawhold, but now it can provide a good natural blocker to some of the stuff that’s downriver.” Fireheart mewed.  
They set the scent markers there twice, in order to remind those getting close of the impending drop.  
“Any kit going out there, or any cat bringing said kit there without a very good reason, will be in big trouble.”  
“Certainly, Bluestorm.” Mousefur replied. “I’d like to give those fleabrains a good clawing if it does happen. Or just ground the kits for a moon.”  
“What about the rest of the rogues living here?” Sandstorm asked as they started to approach the forest. “We should set our marks outside of their territory so that we keep a good relationship with them.”  
“Well, in that case, you’re looking over here.” Mousefur told them. “Plenty of good land. Most dens are outside of there.”  
“Most?” Fireheart asked.  
“Thistle’s just in that copse there, but I get the feeling that he won’t want to come back there.”  
“And good riddance.” Bluestorm spat. “Any cat who can pick on a young kit deserves any exile coming to him.”  
“What?” Brackenpaw asked, shocked.  
“You’ve not heard of Tiny? How they found him badly roughed up and bleeding? Poor thing is too skittish to go outside. Hisses at any cat coming near his Twoleg nest. Thistle bragged about it until Snowfur finally saw sense and dumped him.”  
“That explains why Whitestorm hates him.” Graystripe muttered.  
“Yeah. When your father does that it’s hard not to. He had the rest of us though.”  
They moved to another clearing.  
“Hey, that dead tree looks like a good place!” Brackenpaw mewed.  
“I think the ivy tree over there would be better.”  
“Why? If we used the dead one, we’d have more territory!”  
“Look. If we went there there’s no cover for either prey or you.”  
“Oh.”  
“It’s still a good eye, though. Don’t be afraid to ask questions and voice your opinion. Sometimes they’re the difference between getting back with prey and getting back with bee stings.” Graystripe told him.  
Fireheart winced. “That was not fun.”   
“I told you feather-brains that going for the bird in the bee tree was a bad idea!” Sandstorm yowled.  
Brackenpaw laughed, as did Bluestorm and Mousefur.  
Finally, the last scent marker had been set and Fireheart led his patrol back, where the cats involved ran off to share tongues.  
“That... felt like being in SkyClan again.” Graystripe mewed. Fireheart agreed; he’d felt the pangs of homesickness ease with every new Clan member they took in and trained.  
“We’re doing it. We’re finally making a real Clan.”


	27. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart receives a prophecy. An intruder is apprehended.

That night, Thunderflower called him into the den. “I asked you here for a reason, Fireheart.” She prefaced.  
She took a deep breath. “There will be five, kin of your kin, who will hold the power of the stars in their paws."  
“Five cats? Kin of my kin? Oh, StarClan, I don’t even know if they’ll be good cats yet!”  
“I am sorry to say that I can’t assuage your fears. But the message was passed on to me by a StarClan warrior. Just the message and her well-wishes.”  
“StarClan are watching over us!” Fireheart exclaimed. He’d known Yellowfang was here but wasn’t sure about any other cats.  
“They are. At least, Spottedleaf is. Did you happen to know her?”  
“Yeah. She was like an older sister to me when she was alive. Some said she was the best hunter in ThunderClan. That was, until she went paw-to-paw with Clawface.” He sighed. “Thank you for telling me this, Thunderflower. It helps to know that whatever happens at least some legacy of this Clan will live on.”  
“I never took you for a defeatist, Fireheart.”  
“I’m not. I believe that we’ll be able to defeat these rats and curb these dogs, but the worst case, and plans for that, still need to be considered.”  
“Very astute.” She purred. “Have faith. With the blessing of our ancestors, ThunderClan will thrive where it died.” Her words held the same certainty as the prophecy delivered earlier, and Fireheart couldn’t help but smile.  
Until he exited the den at precisely the same moment that Ravenflight’s injured form was brought to camp by Lionheart and Thornpaw.  
“What happened?” He rasped.  
“The rats... they came. You couldn’t see the floor for them!” Lionheart told them, looking unsteady on his paws.  
“They told us that this time, they’d let him live.” Thornpaw choked out. “But they said next time they’d kill.”  
Silverstream returned with Cinderpaw. In the distance, the kits were being watched over by Speckletail.  
“Lionheart, please help me move him to the den. Thornpaw, rest. Medicine cat’s orders.” Shakily, they obeyed, both heading to different dens. Silverstream moved to Graystripe, beckoning their kits over. Fireheart understood; he himself had unconsciously shifted closer to Sandstorm.  
“I promise, we will make them pay.” His eyes glinted.  
“We’ll need a plan. We’ll need to deal with both the dogs and the rats.” Sandstorm replied.  
“We’ll discuss later. For now, we should get everyone thinking.”  
Sandstorm slipped away, moving through the Clan to deliver the message. The gorge erupted into a frenzied whispering.  
“Intruder!” Brackenpaw yowled after a time. The muttering stopped, every cat sliding their claws out.  
“Hey, I don’t mean any harm!” A voice sounded from beside the camp entrance. Fireheart bounded up; a black-and-white cat was nearby, fur fluffed up.  
“Sorry.” Fireheart said. “One of our warriors was attacked recently and we’re on edge.”  
“I was coming to ask about that. I don’t usually talk with others, but a cat being injured is a cat being injured.”  
“I assure you, Ravenflight is in good paws. With the help of Cinderpaw, he’ll be able to return to full health. I have faith in him.”  
“That’s good to hear.” The cat mewed. Fireheart could still see a small flicker of worry in his eyes. “I’m Barley.”  
“Fireheart.”  
“Well, nice to meet you. I’d better get going – there's bound to be some weakened rats and I’d rather get to them before the crows do.”  
Fireheart stopped. “You eat the rats? But they cause disease!”  
“The old barn’s the place that’d take me. I eat what I can get.”  
“Dubious. I can’t see a rat allowing a cat to stay.”  
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”  
“Come with us.” He urged. “We can get you a decent meal. It’s greenleaf anyway and everyone’s full-fed.”  
“You’d do that for a stranger?”  
“You showed concern for one of our own. Now let us show concern for you.”  
Brackenpaw sat on watch again while Fireheart led Barley back to camp.  
“Go ahead.” He told Barley. “Hunting was good today.”  
“Thank you.” Barley inclined his head before taking a vole and settling to eat it.  
Cinderpaw pelted out of her den suddenly.  
“Burdock root. I need to find burdock root.”  
She raced away to the slope.  
“I’ll make sure she doesn’t get hurt.” Frostfur slipped away from the crowd and followed her daughter.  
“Heh. If only I had that backup when I was in all those scrapes.”  
“Warriors always patrol together officially. Solo hunts are permitted, but only by warriors.” Sandstorm told him. “So, this is our intruder?”  
“Yeah. He was concerned about Ravenflight.”  
“I’ve seen what those rats can do.” Barley’s fur stood slightly more on edge as he spoke.  
“We’re facing them to reclaim this territory. Want to stay awhile and help us with strategy?” Fireheart asked  
“So, you’re offering to let me stay here and help clear the barn for nothing but my advice?”  
“A good warrior is well-informed, Barley. We certainly are.” Sandstorm told him.  
“I’d have to have the brain of a tick to say no to that.”  
“Alright then. See that cave there? That’s the Shining Cave, where you can find moss for your bedding. Just be careful around the water. Ask someone where the warriors’ den is, and they’ll show you where to bunk down. Although if you did get into some scraps, I reckon Cinderpaw will want to inspect you first.”  
“Thank you.” There was a shocked note in his voice.  
“He’s lived with them for a while now.” Sandstorm repeated. “Fireheart, we have ourselves an expert.”  
He purred, giving her a small nuzzle. Cinderpaw raced back with a mouthful of roots, Frostfur in tow.  
“When you’re done with Ravenflight, there’s someone called Barley who’ll stay with us to help with the rats. He’s gotten into a few scrapes himself.”  
“Thanks, Sandstorm. Send him over for me, will you?”  
Sandstorm dipped her head, waiting by the Shining Cave for Barley.  
The next morning dawned bright and clear. Fireheart could see Barley resting on the edge of the den, his ear bandaged and poulticed along with a part of his flank. He emerged to a tired but relieved Cinderpaw, who had just finished with Ravenflight.  
“He’ll be right as rain soon. The burdock helped with a fever that was starting to develop.”  
“Great!” Fireheart purred.  
Bluestorm was up, carrying a blue jay. “I went on a small pre-dawn hunt. I figure Thunderflower’ll appreciate this.” She remarked. She moved past to the elders’ den. A few heartbeats later there was a wailing from the cave and Bluestorm reemerged.  
“Thunderflower’s dead!”


	28. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An idea is fielded. A kit is found.

What?” Fireheart breathed.  
“She’s cold. She’s not moving.” Bluestorm choked out.   
“Was there anything that may have killed her?”  
“No. She wasn’t sick and there were no wounds.” Bluestorm replied. “I think it was just old age.”  
Fireheart felt a pang of grief as he moved up the slope to the elders’ den and lifted the old, gray she-cat onto his back. He carried her down to the riverside, setting her in a space shaded by a large rock. For a moment, he thought he could see a glimmer of starlight around Thunderflower’s family, who had gathered beside her.  
“Cats closest to her will sit vigil tonight. For now, we have borders to defend and training to conduct. Thornpaw, may I ask that you join Brackenpaw and Sandstorm today?”  
“Alright, Fireheart.”  
“Barley, do you wish to hunt with a patrol?”  
“It’s been ages since I’ve hunted. Sure; it’s the least I can do.”  
“Thank you. Graystripe, please send out the patrols.” The unspoken don’t put Thunderflower’s family on heavy work lingered in the air as he sorted them out.   
“Snowfur and Bluestorm, do you want to take your apprentices to hunt?”  
“We’ll do that.”  
“Can Brightpaw and I go hunting? We need to practice a new technique.”  
“Of course. Take Barley and Whitestorm. Sandstorm, Mousefur, you were on the borders. You can each lead a border patrol sometime today.”  
“I can take dawn. Mousefur looks asleep on her paws.”  
“Thanks, Sandstorm.” Mousefur blinked gratefully at her before heading up to the warriors’ cave.  
“In that case, find some cats who want to go on border patrol.”  
She approached Lionheart and Frostfur, speaking to them for a moment before moving over to Lavenderfur and talking to her. The patrol left quickly.  
“Alright then, the rest of you are free to rest, hunt if you’re warriors, or train.” Graystripe leapt off the rock and nodded to Fernpaw, who was going out with Dustpelt.   
“It feels like ages since I’ve hunted.” Silverstream remarked as Fireheart placed a plump thrush by the queens’ side.  
“Why not go on one?” Speckletail asked.  
“Who’d watch over this lot?” Silverstream replied, pointing at the five kits in her care.   
“I wouldn’t mind.”  
“Would you do that? Oh, thank you!” She smiled at Speckletail before racing towards Graystripe. They soon were heading up towards the slope.  
“At this rate, we’ll have a fresh-kill pile the size of the gorge.” Speckletail told him.  
“Yeah. StarClan, we could have enough to make a forest path!”  
“What if we did make a forest path of prey?”  
“For what?”  
“The dogs, of course.” She flicked her ears towards the kits, where Stormkit pretended to be a ferocious dog while the other three kits ganged up on them. Beside her, Sorrelkit, Rainkit and Sootkit, eyes having opened, were playing their own game of trying to pounce on her tail.  
“Speckletail, you’re a genius!”  
“I do try.”   
“We could actually take out two prey with one pounce here. Lead the dogs to the rats, then they’re both weakened.”  
“We’ll need fast runners, though.”  
“We certainly have those.”  
He left her to the kits, paws brimming with new hope.  
Once the patrols had returned, Speckletail started to talk about the plan to the other cats. It spread rapidly around the camp and soon cats were talking excitedly amongst themselves.  
“What’d I miss?” Ravenflight limped out of the cave, an exasperated Cinderpaw trailing behind.  
Mousefur quickly filled him in; he nodded.  
“Ravenflight, you’ll still need rest!”  
“My duty is as a warrior!”  
“Your duty is to rest. You were hurt by the-”  
“I know. I won’t overstretch myself. Can I please just gather moss or something?”  
Cinderpaw sighed. “Fine. You can do light duties such as moss-gathering or tick-cracking. But any hint of hunting or fighting and I’ll confine you to the nest, okay?”  
Ravenflight nodded.  
“Hey, you.” Sandstorm said.   
“Hey yourself. What’s up?”  
“These rats will attack again.” She unsheathed her claws, scraping them against the dry rocks. “I can’t stand the thought of not helping, you know?”  
“Sandstorm, you’re already doing so much. You’re training Brackenpaw, you’re leading patrols.”  
“I know, but I just need to do something!”  
“We can go hunting, if you’d like.”  
“Yes please.” They bounded up the slope quietly, nodding to Branchpaw as she kept watch.  
“Let’s try by the Twolegplace.” She mewed. “There's not been a hunting patrol there in a good couple of days.”  
There was good hunting there; two squirrels and a nest of mice were buried near a larch tree. But as Fireheart tried to sniff out more prey, he heard a small keening coming from a Twoleg nest.  
“Do you hear that?”  
“I do.” Sandstorm leapt onto the fence, surprised to see a young calico cat on the doorstep, sniffling.  
“What’s wrong?” She asked, jumping down while Fireheart scaled the fence.  
“Mom’s gone!”  
“Oh dear, shall we help you find her?” Fireheart asked.  
“No. She didn’t lose us, she dropped us off here.”  
“Why would a cat do that?”  
“She said the Twolegs would protect us. But I don’t want to be a housecat!”  
“Surely there’s a mistake.” Sandstorm said.  
“She dropped my siblings off first.”  
“Oh.”  
“What’s your name?”  
“Mom said the Twolegs would name me.”  
“Not even-” Sandstorm spat in disgust.  
“Would you like to come with us?” Fireheart interjected.  
“Where do you live?” The tom asked.  
“We live in a big gorge with lots of other cats.”  
“Is there anyone like me?”  
“Kits? Yes. We have a fair few of them running about.” Fireheart replied, causing the kit’s head to turn towards him.  
“Do you know any good stories? Ma sometimes told us the story of the Thunder-Warriors if she wasn’t in one of her moods.”  
“I’d say so, wouldn’t you, Fireheart? After all, we are the Thunder-warriors, aren’t we?”  
Fireheart purred as the kitten’s eyes grew round. “Wow! Can you really attack like thunder? Do you turn into lions when you get angry? Do you slip through the undergrowth like shadows?”  
“Oh, we can attack, alright, but we’re just well-trained cats. We certainly don’t turn into lions when we’re angry, although we are quite good at undergrowth-hunting.”  
“Yep! We certainly proved that.” Sandstorm said. “We have some good prey today.”  
“Cool!”  
“Now, a cat like you needs a name. What would you like to be called?”  
“How about... Sun?”  
“Sunkit it is. Clans have ending suffixes that change through a cat’s life. Don’t worry, it gets better with time.”  
“Brilliant! Can we go back now?”   
“Certainly.” They headed to camp, prey and kit in tow. Within minutes of their return, Sunkit, who had told them that he was just weaned, was snuggled next to Mistlekit and Snowkit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Sunkit is Sol.


	29. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rats have another go at attacking and a plan is laid.

The night was moonless. The Clan’s first Gathering had come and gone uneventfully, mentors praising their apprentices and warriors talking amongst themselves. It had taken some time for adjustment, but Fireheart was proud of these cats who had banded together and could call themselves ThunderClan. On the Skyrock, Fireheart could see Runningwind keeping watch, or watching what little he could see. He opened his jaws in a yawn – battle practice today had exhausted him.  
Then, before any cat could react, Runningwind called a warning. Countless rats swarmed down every entryway to the gorge. The night was soon rent with yowls and screams as Fireheart, facing down a swarm of rats, yowled to the Clan.   
“Don’t let them trap you!” He yowled to the Clan, biting into a rat’s neck and flinging it into a rock. It let out a death-squeal and Fireheart moved on. He could feel every scrape he got as the rats pushed him back against the nursery boulder. He clawed his way up the boulder, pouncing on a group of rats trying to enter the nursery. Terrified sounds of kits came from within – Fireheart longed to reassure them, but he needed to keep every hair on his pelt concentrated on battle. He could feel himself steadily pushed back, and he briefly worried that the rats would breach the nursery. Suddenly, as quickly as they entered, the rats left, leaving the gorge in an uneasy silence.   
“A-are they gone?” Sunkit stuttered.   
“The rats just... left...” He choked out, moving into the gorge. Around him, warriors and apprentices came out of the places where they had been battling, the queens and kits soon following.  
“Have we got everyone?” He asked, scanning the crowd. If a cat has died... He pushed his thoughts away.  
“Where’s Runningwind?” Mousefur asked.   
“I’m sure he’ll be fine...” Stonepaw attempted to reassure her, but there was a tremor in her voice that stopped it from being effective. Finally, a brown figure came limping down the slope, face weary.  
“Runningwind!” Mousefur cried, pressing her muzzle against his.  
“They trapped me in a corner, but then they left.”  
“We had the same thing. Trapping us was obviously their battle strategy.”  
“But why leave?”  
It was Doepaw who hit upon the answer. “Fear. They think that if we were scared enough, we’d leave...”  
“Good thinking.” He nodded to her.  
“Fireheart, I’ll need to collect burdock. We won’t have enough at this rate.”  
“Alright but take two warriors with you.”  
“I will.” Cinderpaw asked Lavenderfur and Dustpelt, both of whom had fought in the open and were relatively unscathed, to follow her. They nodded respectfully, following the apprentice.  
“This battle has shown us that we cannot afford another attack like this.”  
“But we can’t leave!” Frostfur objected. “Where would we go?”  
“We won’t leave.” His eyes flashed. “Next time, we’re taking the fight to them.”  
“Is that wise?” Lionheart asked.   
“We’ll have help.” Barley smiled despite a cut on his ear. “Remember the dogs?”  
Lionheart nodded, smiling.  
“We have a plan then. We will attack four nights from now. I need a team of runners to draw the dogs to the barn and a team of fighters.”  
“Alright.” Barley stated. “I’ll fight. As a warrior.” The second half of this caught Fireheart off guard.  
“You wish to join the Clan?”  
“I’ve seen your customs and I love them.” Based on the glance he shot towards Ravenflight, Fireheart suspected he loved a different part of the Clan as well.  
“Very well. We shall hold your warrior ceremony once the others get back.”  
Barley dipped his head as Fernpaw and Brightpaw swiftly volunteered to run.  
“Are you sure?” Cloudtail asked. “You don’t have to do this to prove anything.”  
“I’m sure.” Brightpaw told him. “I want to lead those dogs to their deaths.”   
“In that case, I’ll run too.” Cloudtail said.  
“I can do some running.” Bluestorm said. “I’m faster than I look.”  
“It’s a given that I’m running.” Runningwind said. “I’ll lay out the prey and start it.”   
“I can lead them into the barn.” Fireheart stated. “It’ll be a short run and I’ll be in prime position to fight.”  
“We’ll fight.” Graystripe and Sandstorm said.  
Cinderpaw came back, jaws full of burdock.  
“And me.” Ravenflight volunteered. When Cinderpaw harrumphed, Ravenflight rolled his eyes. “I’ve got my bindings off. I’m hunting. I can do this.”  
Cinderpaw muttered something about not treating any injuries he got from this, but it lacked venom.  
“We’re fighting.” Brackenpaw and Thornpaw said.  
“We’ll be there for backup.” Doepaw said, Branchpaw and Stonepaw quick to agree. Mousefur and Lavenderfur nodded, tacitly contributing themselves to the patrol.  
“And I’m fighting.” Snowfur said, simply.  
“Lionheart, Frostfur, Dustpelt, Whitestorm, you’ll guard camp.”  
“Alright.” They nodded, although Dustpelt’s face had taken on a worried air.  
“Don’t worry, you furball. I’ll be fine.” Fernpaw brushed her tail against Dustpelt’s back.  
“Just... be careful.” Dustpelt mewed.  
Cinderpaw started to call cats to the medicine den. When she called for him, he came into a quiet den, the rest of the warriors having gone to their nests.  
“Let’s see. Nasty flank-scratch, nicked ear. Tiny scrapes. Well, Fireheart, this’ll sting.” He winced as she placed burdock root on his scratches, only relaxing when she moved on to bandaging his ear and flank. Afterwards, he stepped into the cool night air and joined Sandstorm., licking her affectionately on the cheek.  
“Do you think we’re doing the right thing?” Tiredness crept into his voice.  
“Fireheart, even if we fail, I will always believe that this was the right choice.”  
“Really?”  
“Look. You’ve united a group of cats into something more than themselves. Even if we fail and leave the gorge, ThunderClan will be able to survive in some form.”  
“I just hope we win.”  
“I hope so too. “  
He caught sight of Barley in the crowd, waiting expectantly. “There’s something I need to do.”  
He leapt up onto the Rockpile, beckoning his exhausted Clan closer.   
“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!”  
He watched as the crowd moved into the dark gorge.  
“I, Fireheart, future leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this cat. He has trained hard to understand your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn. Barley, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”  
“I do.” His amber eyes reflected what little light there was in the gorge; solemnity gleamed in them.  
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Barley, from this moment on you will be known as Barleypelt. StarClan honours your wisdom and dependability, and we welcome you as a full warrior of ThunderClan.”  
“Barleypelt!” The Clan cheered. Ravenflight nudged him, and Fireheart could see the tom’s blush from his position.  
“I need to talk to you.” Ravenflight told Barleypelt.  
“Go ahead, your vigil is not till tomorrow.”  
The Clan dragged themselves to bed, apart from poor Graystripe, who needed to keep watch over the Clan.  
Fireheart curled around Sandstorm, pressing against her ginger fur. Even if ThunderClan didn’t make it, he would remember this for as long as he existed. He hoped the others would too.


	30. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fireheart and Cinderpaw go to the Shining Cave to receive his nine lives and her name.

This was two nights before the attack. Every cat in camp had fervently trained, driven on by determination to keep ThunderClan in the gorge. The kits had taken to playing rat attacks, although still they raced to the nursery at the slightest noise or scent. Fireheart collapsed into his nest with Sandstorm, closing his eyes.  
He did not expect to wake in StarClan.  
“Hello? Does StarClan have a message for me?”  
“We do indeed.” Yellowfang purred. “You will wake at dawn, but tomorrow night you shall go to the Shining Cave to receive your nine lives.”  
“Now? But ThunderClan hasn’t won against the rats yet!”  
“Nine lives will help ThunderClan against the rats, and it is StarClan’s wish that you take them now. Make sure that you bring Cinderpaw, too. I have something special for her as well.” Yellowfang’s eyes brimmed with care and Fireheart purred.  
“Very well. Tomorrow we will go to the Shining Cave.”  
“I will be waiting for you there.” She smiled at Fireheart, speaking again, although this time her voice carried the ring of myriad ancestors. “Remember, StarClan is on your side.”

Fireheart inched his way along the narrow ledge in the Shining Cave. Behind him, Cinderpaw carefully made her way to the rock that would provide a place for them to lie while sharing tongues with StarClan.  
“Are you ready?” Cinderpaw asked as she lay down by the water’s edge. Fireheart cast his eyes around the cave, glowing warmly as though his ancestors welcomed him. He nodded.  
“As I’ll ever be.” He bent his head down to lap the water; immediately, sleep dampened his senses.  
He was in the dark; he felt a small twinge as something left him. Vaguely, he could hear a shuffling noise.  
He opened his eyes to find himself sitting in a starry version of Fourtrees, but this one was different. Five trees ringed its clearing, each magnificent and tall.  
“Welcome, Fireheart.” Yellowfang caught his attention, standing tall and proud at the head of a crowd of starry warriors. “Are you ready to receive your nine lives?”  
“I am.” He answered.  
She stepped back, allowing a reddish-brown figure to step through.  
“Redstar.” He acknowledged.  
“Thank you. You have taken my Clan and made it strong again. I give you a life for courage. Let it guide your paws to make the decisions that are hard to take and stand up to the fiercest of enemies.”  
He touched his nose to Fireheart’s. Suddenly, Fireheart was engulfed by misty images of battles fought, standing up to old friends, of taking the hardest decision and leading his Clan away. Throughout it all, a burning in his chest started to mount, until Fireheart felt that he would collapse from the pain of it all.  
Just as quickly as it came, it ended, and Fireheart was left alone for a heartbeat, trembling and steadying himself.  
There was movement from behind the trees; Fireheart was surprised that he recognized the four cats who stepped out from the bushes.  
“You- you were the leaders who drove out ThunderClan!”  
“I’m ashamed to say that we are.” The black leader swished his tail, green eyes sorrowful. “We have come to repent in some small way by giving the new leader of ThunderClan four lives.”  
“Very well.” Redstar stepped aside, letting the leaders through.  
“I am Swiftstar. For moons after driving out ThunderClan, I could not rest easy. I give you a life for justice. Let the knowledge of what is fair guide your paws more than your feelings towards others.”  
Fireheart touched noses with him; he could feel himself standing on a rock, spitting at another. Afterwards, he felt guilt build in him; it weighed him down like a heavy stone until he could no longer move. He lifted his head with a gargantuan effort, feeling the weight break away.  
“I am Dawnstar. I am here to give you a life of tireless energy. For every pawstep I took after ThunderClan was driven out, I was compelled to prove to myself that I was a good leader, using every whisker of energy I had to lead ShadowClan to strength and compassion.”  
She lightly brushed his forehead with her nose, and he felt himself running as he had as Firepaw, feeling as if he could run around the forest and the gorge and still have energy to spare.  
“Use it well.” She remarked.  
“I am Birchstar. A cat is shaped by their mentor. I felt compassion for your Clan but was too much of a coward to offer to find another solution. To deal with my guilt, I trained apprentices never to repeat my mistakes. I give you a life for mentoring, so you may shape the young cats of your Clan into the warriors that would not repeat the mistakes of the past.” As soon as Fireheart received this life, he could see himself with faceless cats, all younger than him, asking to be taught the hunter’s crouch or the latest battle move. He could see the cats who needed reassurance, who needed a lesson. He felt confident that he could handle them all.  
“I am Cloudstar. Before he left the forest, I had an inter-clan friendship with Redstar. But as soon as my Clan was facing them down, the boundaries between our Clans was more pronounced than ever. I give you a life for loyalty to what you know to be right. The warrior code is not meant to cover every situation; use your judgement to figure out when it is better to bend it.” He could feel pain with this life, the same pain he had felt when he mourned Yellowfang or Spottedleaf.  
“I hope now you understand the consequences of rigidity.” Cloudstar turned away; Fireheart knew the cats stepping forward now.  
“Brindleheart! You made it!”  
“I made it. I’m so proud of Fernpaw, and every day I get to see her blossom a bit more.”  
“What of Ash?”   
Brindleheart’s gaze darkened. “He is my son still, but I fear that his path is darker than his sister’s.” She composed herself. “With this life, I give you a mother’s love. Use it with your Clan, for they will be your responsibility.” Fireheart expected gentleness; instead, he got rage, directed towards the nameless assailants taking on the featureless shapes crouched beside him.  
“Never underestimate the power of a mother’s love.” Brindleheart answered simply, moving into the crowd.  
Thunderflower came next; her gaze was proud, and she looked healthy. “I give you a life for nobility, certainty and faith. Use them well to steer ThunderClan through the darkest of hours.” He could see himself in the Clan now, watching his warriors make decisions, making sacrifices for the Warrior Code and thanking StarClan for prey. “I won’t let you down.” He whispered as the life blew away.  
Spottedleaf was next. “With this life I give you love, be it platonic or romantic. Use the former well for your Clan, and the latter for Sandstorm.” Her whiskers twitched; Fireheart knew that this was her teasing side; even as she gave him the life.   
It was warm; he felt bliss as he felt a warm glow upon him, with every lick that Sandstorm gave him, every burst of pride in Cloudtail, every fit of laughter with Graystripe.  
“Thank you, Spottedleaf.” She smiled as she gave way for his last life.  
Yellowfang came last, pride in every hair of her thick pelt. “Fireheart, you have done well. Thanks to your compassion, ThunderClan lives and SkyClan is a better place. I give you a life for compassion, to remind you of its power.”  
He could see himself in all the cats he’d helped’s positions; he was Yellowfang eating a pigeon, Cinderpaw being led to camp, Doepaw keeping a son safe.  
“Thank you for being a mother to me.” He said at last. He felt tired, but most of him was surging with joy and strength after receiving his lives.  
“I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Yellowfang replied. “StarClan hails you by your new name, Firestar. Your old life and name are no more. Lead ThunderClan with virtue, care for young and old and uphold the Code.”  
“Firestar! Firestar!” He smiled, pride creeping into his gaze.  
When the cheering had died down, Yellowfang beckoned Cinderpaw forward.  
“I, Yellowfang, former medicine cat to ShadowClan and SkyClan, call upon StarClan to look upon this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of a medicine cat, and with your help she will serve ThunderClan for many moons.  
Cinderpaw, do you promise to uphold the ways of a medicine cat, to stand apart from the rivalry between Clan and Clan and protect all cats equally, even at the cost of your life?”  
Cinderpaw was shocked for a moment before answering, a smile gracing her face. “I do.”  
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your true name as a medicine cat. Cinderpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Cinderpelt. StarClan honors your tenacity and enthusiasm, and we welcome you as a full medicine cat of ThunderClan.”  
It was Firestar’s turn to cheer, watching as Cinderpelt beamed at the assembled cats.  
“Thank you for everything.” Firestar said as the starry landscape faded.  
They woke up in the Shining Cave, ready to serve their Clan with their new ranks.


	31. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ThunderClan puts their plan into motion.

“Fireheart- no, Firestar! You’re back!” Graystripe yowled, nudging him.

“I am. And Cinder _pelt_ ’s gotten a new rank as well.”

“That’s great news! Come on, get some prey and rest.”

“Thanks, Graystripe.” He took a plump vole from the pile, falling upon it until no more of it remained. He then headed up to the warriors’ cave, wishing to curl up next to Sandstorm, but stopped, realizing that he had to sleep in the leaders’ den now. The den itself was spacious; a moss nest lay at its heart and he could smell Brightpaw’s scent amidst the bedding. Reminding himself to thank her, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

He woke to the sun streaming onto his pelt; he stretched and bounded down from his new den to the gorge’s floor. Cats milled around Cinderpelt, congratulating her on her well-deserved name.

“Firestar!” Cloudtail spotted him first, rushing over to him. “Did you get your lives?”

“I did.” Fernpaw had broken away from Cinderpelt, having congratulated her, and was talking with Dustpelt. The brown tabby quickly noticed him, moving over to him.

“I believe congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you, Dustpelt. Fernpaw, your mother was in StarClan. She made it.”

Fernpaw purred, small tears coming to her eyes. “She made it? Was she happy? Were they treating her alright?”

“Yes, yes and yes. She gave me a life.”

Fernpaw smiled widely, racing over to Whitestorm. Cats had started to come and congratulate him, wishing him well and joking with one another, although the air was still charged from their plan coming soon. He noticed Brightpaw, Thornpaw, Brackenpaw and Fernpaw talking together after a fashion, and moved over to them.

“If ThunderClan survives this attack, you’ll all be sleeping in the warriors’ den from now on.”

“Great!” Brackenpaw enthused. “We get to be warriors!” He turned to his siblings, pouncing on Thornpaw.

“You may want to save that energy for the rats and the dogs.” He chuckled. One thing that had perturbed him was that Sandstorm had been oddly distant throughout the whole thing.

“Hey.” He purred as he came up to her.

“Hello, Firestar.”

“Are you alright?”

She sighed. “I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong? I’m still the same cat as yesterday!” As he said that, he realized the problem.

“But you have this connection with StarClan now!”

“I have nine lives, yes, but I haven’t changed because of it. I will always love you, lives or no lives. I could be the most important StarClan cat there was, and I'd still be there for you as a mate.”

She pressed into him suddenly, nearly knocking him to the floor. “Oof!” He laughed, licking her cheek. Eventually she let up, smiling as she made her way into the Clan at large.

The next order of business was a deputy; and he knew exactly who he’d pick. He’d used him for patrols, he’d been there for him since the beginning.

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey gather here beneath the Rockpile for a Clan meeting!” He yowled, satisfied when the Clan gathered near him.

“I say these words before StarClan, so that they may hear and approve my choice. Graystripe will be the new deputy of ThunderClan.”

“Graystripe! Graystripe!” The crowd chanted. Silverstream curled her tail against his while their kits pounced on him.

“Thank you.” Graystripe said. He nodded to him, pride gleaming in his green eyes.

“As you are all aware, we will be taking down these rats and dogs soon. Is the prey laid?”

“Yes.” Mousefur answered, flashing a look of pride towards Runningwind.

“Brilliant. Everyone, please get into position. Cinderpelt, please be on standby here in camp.” There was a stream of cats out of the hollow as different cats raced to their bushes or trees in the forest, Firestar perching on an oak branch. Near the barn, where a large pile of prey led into the barn itself, the fighters were stationed on the boughs of trees, waiting.

The dogs, smelling the prey, bounded out, jaws slavering. This was Runningwind’s cue to dart out, the dogs racing after him as he sprinted for his life.

Brightpaw was next, leaping out of a holly bush as Runningwind climbed a tree. The dogs’ barking took on a feverish pitch as they raced for the cat who had evaded them. Cloudtail was swift to take the lead, letting his unofficial mate climb up while he moved towards Bluestorm.

True to her word, Bluestorm was faster than she appeared, becoming a blue-gray streak as she nimbly dodged the dogs.

Fernpaw was up ahead, waiting for the dogs to come, when she saw a blue eye staring at her.

“Hello, Ash.” She mewed.

“Don’t exchange such pleasantries. You lost that right when you allied yourself with those murderers.”

“Our mother’s death was the fault of those dogs!” She yowled.

“Our mother’s death was the fault of this Clan. And now it’s time to repay them.”

He darted out of the bush, attracting the attention of the dogs, who swiftly turned towards him. He led it into the bush and Fernpaw could feel the hot stink of its breath on her tail tip as she yowled and scrambled away. She moved onto the trail, running away from the dog. She saw Firestar up ahead and scrambled onto the trunk, panting. Firestar took the small lead given, but it was no use. Ash had stepped on his tail, preventing him from moving. The dog’s jaws grew closer.

_Sandstorm, I love you. I’m sorry that I couldn’t come back. Graystripe, lead this Clan well..._

The dog’s breath stopped, leading Firestar to look back. The dogs, instead of going for him, had thrown Ash against a tree-trunk, facing him down.

“Hey, mange-pelts!” He grabbed a mouse from the prey pile, dangling it in front of them. They wheeled as one, following the set path again, racing towards him. He climbed onto the metal fence, watching as the dogs’ momentum carried them forward into the rats’ domain. There was a terrible squealing sound, barks and death squeaks mixed in with chitters of rage. The rats and dogs were attacking each other now, but increasingly the dogs’ snarls were turning to yelps, until finally the barking grew still, replaced with a defiant squeaking.

The rats had won, and now it was their turn to face them.


	32. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Clan faces the rats.

Firestar took a deep breath. “ThunderClan, attack!” He yowled, leading his cats into the barn. They fanned out behind him, each immediately swarmed by the rats. Brackenpaw and Thornpaw fought side-by-side as one, protecting each other’s flanks and killing any rat stupid enough to get in their way. Snowfur hissed, raking her claws down one rat’s spine while another struggled in her mouth. Ravenflight took out a rat clinging to Barleypelt’s tail.

“Fixed that for you.”

“Thanks, it was getting a bit annoying.”

Doepaw hissed at three rats, while Branchpaw and Stonepaw madly ran about, swiping at the rats in their path.

Lavenderfur leapt onto a crowd of rats while Mousefur went to help Stonepaw. But as much as they fought, there were more rats. Firestar could see his cats flagging; could see it in every blow Sandstorm traded with the rats, with the concentration on Graystripe’s face. A silent signal rippled through the rats and they redoubled their attack, leaving the cats to face the full impact of the horde of rats. There was no room to think now; he just swiped at rats, trying and hoping to get out. Rats suddenly swarmed over him as one; he tried to get up and knock them off, but it was no use. Behind him, as sleep washed over him, he could hear a wail of anguish.

He sat up in a starry meadow with Thunderflower watching him.

“I lost a life?” He asked, pushing himself to his paws.

“Yes.” She pointed towards the crowd of cats behind him, surprised to recognize himself in the crowd. His pelt was almost transparent, only his eyes reflecting the starlight that shone around him. The star-cat dipped his head. He turned to beg Thunderflower to send him back, only to catch the gaze of a newcomer.

“S-snowfur?”

“The rats managed to get to me. Sandstorm is currently fishing you out of that pandemonium.”

“I’m so sorry...”

“Don’t be.” Her gaze was warm. “I lived a full life and I finally got to join a Clan and fight for it. In the end, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

He felt himself sucked from the meadow before he could reply, his eyes snapping open heartbeats later.

“Get on the tree!” A cat called, and he shakily obliged, getting onto a low bough.

“Firestar... we lost Snowfur...” Sandstorm told him.

“I know. I saw her in StarClan.” He could feel his every bone protesting, his pelt littered with scratches. “There are too many of them for even the biggest patrol to clear.”

“What about the leader? He’s the only one speaking cat.” Barleypelt told him.

“Yeah. I bet you the rest of the rats have exactly one brain between them. Kill the leader, and...” Graystripe trailed off.

Firestar nodded. “Hey, I bet you that you’re too cowardly to come up alone! Not even your leader would dare show himself!”

There was stony silence from the rats below. Firestar put aside that hope.

 _Not one, but many._ The advice seemed to whisper through the tree. He could glimpse Spottedleaf’s outline among the cats in the trees.

 _Thanks, sis._ But what could the advice mean? There was no other way to- He noticed a twitch of a tail as the rats inched closer. Then he could see a claw scrape against the tiles. He followed the wave back to where a rat twitched his tail, ordering the rats ever closer. He knew that he wouldn’t have time to explain before the rat was lost again.

He pounced down into the sea of rats. Sandstorm yowled as the Clan watched in fear, while the rats tried to swarm him again and take another of his lives...

But it was too late. He had fastened his teeth into the neck of the lead rat, and it was over. The beady eyes started to glaze over even as unimaginable hatred filled them.

“We won’t die. You will.” He addressed the leader one last time.

“ThunderClan, attack!” The call brought some of the runners forward, and he could see Fernpaw and Bluestorm charge over with Runningwind, bringing death upon any rat stupid enough to get in their way. The Clan pounced upon the fleeing rats, until they had all retreated into the barn, gibbering with terror.

“Enough.” He commanded. “ThunderClan has won!” The cry was taken up by the warriors, for as battle worn as they were, they had proven their right to remain in the gorge.

He moved inside the barn with Sandstorm, where the corpses of rats littered the floor. Off to the side, Snowfur lay, her white pelt stained red, claws still fastened in an assailant’s throat. Bluestorm entered, giving a sob of grief.

“Do you mind if I stay here?” She asked, fury lighting her gaze.

“Be back soon.” Firestar told her, before moving with the rest of the warriors. Snowfur was carried by Runningwind and Fernpaw, as they moved along the trail. Against a tree, he could see Ash, hollow-eyed and bleeding. Fernpaw’s face had gone pale, but she moved on. They came down the slope, where Silverstream poked her head out.

“Did we win?”

“Yes.” Graystripe told her as Fernpaw and Runningwind placed Snowfur down.

“Is she...” She trailed off.

“She hunts with StarClan now. She died nobly.” There was a wail as Whitestorm rushed down from his post, crouching beside his mother.

“What happened to Bluestorm?” He asked.

“She’s back at the barn.” Firestar answered.

“Did you just... leave her to the rats?” Whitestorm asked. At that moment, Bluestorm came down, pelt soaked with the blood of rats.

“Oh no.” She purred, vindication shining in her eyes. “They left the rats to _me_.”

Whitestorm pressed himself against his aunt. “Please don’t worry me like that again! I thought I lost both of my mothers!”

Bluestorm rested her muzzle on his forehead. “It’s not that time yet.”

Firestar watched as the Clan started to lick their wounds, Bluestorm washing the rats’ blood off in the river, returning her red pelt to its blue-gray colour. Cinderpelt darted about, placing burdock root on warriors’ sides.

“Were there any other casualties?”

“I lost a life.” He told her, as she placed burdock on the many bites on his back.

“Then I’m glad that StarClan granted you nine.” She sternly told him not to reopen the wounds before moving to Ravenflight, the last cat to be treated.

As Snowfur was prepared for vigil by her family, Fireheart allowed himself to look around the gorge and take in his Clan. They had won. ThunderClan would survive.


	33. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warrior ceremonies and a new ceremony come in the wake of the rat battle.

He noticed Whitestorm with a withered wreath in his jaws soon after dawn, heading along the trail to where Brindleheart was buried. Hesitantly, he made his way to Whitestorm.  
“I made this wreath for her when we first became mates.” Whitestorm explained without preamble. “She gave me one the next day. I still have it in a hollow nearby. I promised myself that when ThunderClan won, I’d put this on her grave so that she’d know that we’d won.”  
“She watches over us now. I think she knows.” Firestar reassured him.  
“This just feels – right, you know?”  
“Of course.” Firestar dipped his head. “What about your mother?”  
“I was going to place some flowers on hers.”  
“I won’t interrupt.” Firestar told him. “May I tell Cloudtail and Dustpelt about the wreaths? They seem like the toms who’d need something to give.”  
“’Course. We inherited it from a pair of travelers, so it would be fitting to pass it on.”  
“Thank you.”  
He let Whitestorm be as he moved over to Dustpelt and Cloudtail. “I have something to tell you.”  
“Well, what is it?” Dustpelt asked.  
“Whitestorm was telling me about making a flower wreath for Brindleheart when they were first mated. I know you’re the type of toms that need to do something, so I figured that I’d tell you.”  
“Thanks, Firestar!” Cloudtail raced off into the woods, Dustpelt following soon after.  
Firestar decided to follow their lead, moving into a quiet meadow. He leapt into an aster tree, picking some choice blooms then heading down to find the long grasses that he would need. He deftly secured the grass with a twig, tucking the asters into the gaps in the grass. He could see borages in bloom. He knew that Cinderpelt would only use the leaves, so he placed a few of those flowers into the wreath. Picking up the delicate wreath, he walked to camp, setting the wreath in the shade of an overhang.  
Cloudtail came back with a wreath of sunflowers and pink roses, while chamomile flowers and snapdragons were prominent in Dustpelt’s.  
By this time, the dawn patrols and burial party had returned, and he was ready to start the warrior ceremonies.  
“Brightpaw, Thornpaw, Brackenpaw and Fernpaw, please step forward.”  
“I, Firestar, leader of ThunderClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on these apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Brightpaw, Thornpaw, Brackenpaw and Fernpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your lives?”  
“I do.” Conviction rang from each tone as well as excitement, causing Firestar to smile.  
“Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior names. Brightpaw, Brackenpaw, Fernpaw and Thornpaw, from this moment on you will be known as Brightheart, Brackenfur, Ferncloud and Thornclaw. StarClan honours your courage and commitment and we welcome you as full warriors of ThunderClan.”  
“Brightheart! Thornclaw! Brackenfur! Ferncloud!” The cheer rang across the Clan, and he watched as Dustpelt and Cloudtail presented their wreaths to their mates.  
He leapt off the rock to fetch Sandstorm’s, carrying it gently to her. “Whitestorm spoke about this being an old travelling tradition – give your mate a wreath when you become mates.”  
“Thank you!” she purred, placing the wreath jauntily upon her head.   
“You look beautiful.” Firestar replied, licking her cheek. She pressed into his side.  
“Why not make this a ceremony? You know, to integrate it into Clan life.”  
“Of course, that sounds great. But what about medicine cats?”  
“Perhaps they can get a wreath from their family when they become a full-fledged medicine cat?”  
“Perfect.”  
He leapt up onto the Rockpile again, summoning his cats. These words would be ThunderClan’s for seasons to come, and he needed to get them right.  
“Brightheart, Cloudtail, please step forward.” Brightheart, with a sunny smile, moved closer with her mate.  
“Clanmates, Brightheart and Cloudtail have gathered here as they express their wish to become mates until StarClan greets them both. Do you take each other as your mate?”  
“I do.” Cloudtail’s voice brimmed with love and shock.  
“I do.” Brightheart answered, hope in every syllable.  
“Then I pronounce you mates for life.” It was hard to keep his voice steady; his nephew, the cat who he’d helped to raise, having a mate! But somehow, he managed it long enough for the Clan to chant their names and let them into the crowd to be swallowed by their family.  
“Dustpelt and Ferncloud have also gathered as they express their wish to become mates until StarClan greets them both. Do you take each other as your mate?”  
“I do.” No cat could doubt the sincerity in Dustpelt’s voice as he faced the cat he’d stayed for.  
“I do.” Ferncloud, who’d been nervous in her warriors’ ceremony, now had all doubts erased; she looked radiant sitting there.  
“Then I pronounce you mates for life.”  
Ferncloud didn’t hesitate; she grabbed Dustpelt, licking him furiously. Firestar smiled, going to congratulate the two new couples.  
“Not so fast.” Cinderpelt smiled, padding onto the Rockpile herself.  
“Clanmates, Firestar and Sandstorm have gathered as they express their wish to become mates until StarClan greets them both. Do you take each other as your mate?”   
“I do.” Firestar faced Sandstorm as she had padded over to him; her face shining with the energy that he loved so much.  
“I do.” Sandstorm didn’t hesitate; her eyes showed love and gratitude as she pressed her nose to his.  
“Then I pronounce you mates for life.” Cinderpelt stepped off the Rockpile, and Fireheart sat for a heartbeat until Sandstorm pinned him to the ground, licking him furiously while stray petals flew from her wreath.  
“Ack-”  
She let him up, where he was led over to Doepaw for a hearty round of congratulations. Ravenflight and Graystripe thumped him on the back, beaming; Silverstream laughed, and he could practically see Graystripe thinking of the best way to get his mate a wreath.   
“New warriors, you’re on vigil tonight.” The four of them nodded. “That doesn’t mean you can’t get some rest now.”  
They nodded, heading up to the filling warriors’ den as Firestar lay on a rock to share tongues with Sandstorm.


	34. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ThunderClan experiences 'normality'; Sandstorm has news.

Mistlekit, Snowkit, Sunkit, Featherkit and Stormkit proudly perched below the Rockpile where Firestar sat now.

“Mistlekit, Snowkit, Sunkit, Featherkit and Stormkit, you have all reached the age of six moons and are ready to be apprenticed. From this day on, until you receive your warrior names, you shall be known as Mistlepaw, Snowpaw, Sunpaw, Featherpaw and Stormpaw. Your mentors shall be Doeflower, Cloudtail, Lavenderfur, Mousefur and Barleypelt.”

“Doeflower, Cloudtail, Lavenderfur, Mousefur and Barleypelt, you have all shown dedication and bravery to the Clan. You have all received excellent training, and you will be the mentors of these apprentices.”

As one, they touched noses.

“What will we do now?” Featherpaw asked.

“Well, first we’ll tour the territory. Although I strongly doubt there’s any part of it that you _haven’t_ explored!” Her mentor replied.

“Oh, the troubles you kits get yourselves into.” Stonespark purred, wearing her wreath given to her just the day before by Mousefur.

“I seem to remember quite a few of _your_ jaunts.” Branchcall told her. “Didn’t you get trapped in that shed when we were kits?”

“One. Time. Branchcall.”

Behind her, a flower slipped onto Barleypelt’s nose as Ravenflight congratulated him on the apprentice.

“We have one more ceremony to perform. Speckletail, is it your wish to give up the name of warrior and join the elders in their den?”

“It is.”

“Then I wish you many seasons of rest.”

“Speckletail! Speckletail!” Mistlepaw chanted, soon followed by Silverstream, then the rest of the Clan.

“I’m looking forward to getting on patrol again.” Silverstream remarked.

“Well, that’s good, ‘cause we were just rounding up cats for the hunting patrol!” Lionheart gave her a friendly nudge.

“Thank you!” Silverstream purred.

Brightheart and Ferncloud laughed together; Ferncloud was due any day now, while Brightheart was at the stage where it was barely noticeable, but still enough to make her tire easily.

“That’ll be me soon.” Sandstorm purred as he leapt from the Rockpile.

“What?” He asked, freezing. “Can you please repeat that?”

“Firestar, you’re going to be a father.”

“Really?” He asked.

“Would I lie to you?”

“This is amazing, Sandstorm! I can’t wait to meet them!”

“Neither can I. I wonder who they’ll take after.”

“If they get any of your qualities, they’ll be perfect in my eyes.”

“What, even my tongue?”

“Especially the tongue.”

“Can you two not do this in the full view of kits?” Cloudtail complained. “At least Brightheart and I have the decency to at least pick a secluded spot in camp.”

“Cheeky mousebrain.”

“Soppy moggy.”

“Don’t you have an apprentice to train?”

“Snowpaw’s over there, retching.”

Snowpaw was indeed miming gagging. Firestar went up and flicked him around the ears with his tail, pointing towards the young apprentice’s mentor.

“Go on. I’d hate for you to miss your training because you’re too busy being disgusted.” He told them, watching as they filed out of camp.

“Get back here, you little-” Ferncloud’s cry was cut off as Sorrelkit barreled into Firestar, only waiting a heartbeat to catch her breath before she sped off again.

“Hard times?” Sandstorm asked jovially, corralling Sootkit and picking him up by the scruff of his neck.

“S’pose you could say that.” Ferncloud puffed, managing to catch Sorrelkit by her tail.

Firestar had trapped Rainkit against a rock and picked him up, setting him at Ferncloud’s paws.

“Nice running but being able to outrun an enemy doesn’t guarantee escape.”

“Next time, wait until I’ve finished grooming you before you run pell-mell!”

Sorrelkit’s fur was half fluffed; Fireheart could see the exact point in the grooming where she’d broken away.

“But why do they get to be apprentices and have all the fun adventures?”

“Because they’re a couple of moons older than you. Just you wait, it’ll be your turn soon.” Ferncloud told them.

“But we’ve been waiting _forever!”_ Sootkit complained.

“Last I checked, four moons wasn’t forever.” Sandstorm told them.

“Oh, and just you wait, being an apprentice is tiring. You’ll wish for kithood by the time you get into apprenticeship!”

“No, we won’t!” Rainkit piped up.

“I’ll bring this up when any of you complain about being tired.” Ferncloud told them. A breeze picked up, ruffling the trees, and amber leaves fell on them; leaf-fall was in full swing. The leaves, of course, distracted the kits once again.

“Rainkit! Catch!” Sorrelkit squeaked, batting one of the drifting leaves toward her brother.

Ferncloud sighed.

“Hey, you’re doing a great job. You’re still learning.” Speckletail called from the elders’ den.

Ferncloud appeared heartened and went to grab a quick bite of prey before dealing with the rambunctious kits again.

“It feels so quiet.” He remarked.

“I know. I guess this is the first time in a while that we’ve had the chance to just be a Clan without anything looming.”

“I wonder whether SkyClan will enjoy some peace as well.”

“They must be. After all, it seems that I’m the trouble magnet.”

“Ah yes, I can see it now. Firestar lost eight of his nine lives because he was so unlucky that he managed to get into every random scrape and piece of drama.”

The patrols soon returned and were sent out; the new apprentices came back near dusk, each enthusing about the territory while the kits sat jealously and listened.

Graystripe called for them.

“Oh, that’ll be the dusk patrol.”

And for once, it was normal. No rats in sight, no Twolegs, no kits abandoned, no dogs.

“It feels like nine lives ago that I was just Fireheart, warrior of SkyClan.”

“Can you two stop mooning over one another?” Dustpelt snapped.

“Aw, we know you’re just cranky because you miss Ferncloud already.” Sandstorm teased, causing him to huff. The moon soon peeked from above the trees as they finished their patrol, letting Dustpelt race straight towards Ferncloud.

“Ah, he’s got the brain of a rabbit kit when it comes to her.” Ravenflight told them, fondly watching his brother.

“And you don’t when it comes to Barleypelt?” Dustpelt yowled from inside the nursery.

“He heard you.” Firestar whispered.

“I have ears.” Ravenflight replied.

Behind him, Speckletail was telling the story of the rats to the enraptured kits, Sunpaw listening as he changed her bedding.

Warriors ate, rested, and teased one another.

If this was normal, Firestar could get used to it.


	35. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ThunderClan gains two new members.

Firestar huddled closer to Sandstorm and his daughters, peering down at them fondly.  
“They’re beautiful.” He purred.  
“They are.” Sandstorm licked Squirrelkit’s head, where a tuft of fur stuck up; Firestar moved Leafkit closer so that she could nurse. Behind them, Brightheart curled around a sleeping Whitekit, while Ferncloud watched as Shrewkit and Spiderkit play-wrestled in the relative warmth of the den.  
“Need anything? Some prey, perhaps? Some moss?” Sorrelpaw poked her head in, bouncing about.  
“No thank you.” Sandstorm purred. “But thanks for asking.” Sorrelpaw inched closer to their kits; Firestar guessed that the real reason the spunky tortoiseshell had entered was to see the kits.  
“I know what you’re here for. Come and meet them.” Sorrelpaw edged closer.  
“They’re so tiny!”   
“That they are. But they’ll grow into fine warriors – or medicine cats.”  
“What are they called?”  
“This one is Squirrelkit, and this one is Leafkit.”  
“Squirrelkit and Leafkit.”  
“This one due to her tail, and Leafkit to honour our old leader in the forest.” Sandstorm explained.  
“That’s so cool! I'm going to tell Rainpaw and Sootpaw!”  
“You do that.” Firestar called before turning to his mate. “StarClan, where does she keep her energy?”  
“Thornclaw theorizes it’s in her fur.”  
“He’s got his paws full with that one to mentor.”  
“I daresay he had enough practice with Cinderpelt for a sister.”  
“Very true.” Sandstorm chuckled.  
Firestar looked around the nursery, decorated with rocks and feathers (Silverstream’d applied the RiverClan custom here). A wreath lay near each queen’s nest, still treasured.  
Sandstorm had dozed off, tired from the birth. He licked the top of her head before fetching her a pair of mice to wake up to. It was her favorite, and Branchcall had found the nest just that dawn. He laid them by his mate’s side, watching proudly as his kits swiveled their heads, trying to source the new scent.  
“It’s just prey. It’s alright.” He laid his tail on their backs and stepped out of the nursery.  
“You got me soaking!” Snowpaw flicked his tail irritably at Silverstream.  
She laughed. “You did say you wanted to learn to fish.” she mewed.  
He nodded eventually. “I did, didn’t I? I just didn’t want an up close and personal experience!”  
He huffed playfully before wandering to his mentor. “When will we teach the Clan the battle signs?”  
“When we’ve figured out code for some of the more advanced moves.”  
“Can we do that now?”  
“Sure.” Cloudtail purred.  
He trotted up the slope, turning to hunt. He raced through the falling leaves, being careful not to make a noise.  
He caught a blue jay immediately, seeing it pecking at some birch nuts. The reminder of the day that Thunderflower had died came rushing back as did the prophecy. There will be five, kin of your kin, who will hold the power of the stars in their paws. Would the prophecy cats come from his two cherished daughters? And if so, which paths were they all to walk?  
He got back to camp with a respectable catch, still mulling over the prophecy. He found himself in the nursery again, looking down at Leafkit and Squirrelkit. I may not have the control of a prophecy over their lives, but it is my duty as a father and as a leader to guide these kits onto the Clan cats’ path and give them the happiest lives that I can.  
He curled around Sandstorm, promising himself that he would rest his eyes for a moment.  
He was in a dream before he knew it.  
The Clan was someplace different, but he could still recognise Sandstorm and see his kits – only now they were grown. But the Clan seemed happy and safe, and he realised that, with a jolt, the Clan would go on. The Clan would face the future with open paws, as was the way of the warrior.   
And when they did, Firestar would be at the forefront, guiding his Clan into a new era.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small post-epilogue vignette. Squirrelpaw gets bored and stumbles into an interesting cave.

Squirrelpaw prowled through the lush forest atop the gorge. Greenleaf was starting to pick up, and the Clan were taking full advantage of it. Although Runningwind had died from his wounds from a fox pack, the Clan were still able to defend themselves. And now, she scanned the clearing for anything that could feed the Clan. 

There! A jay sung in the tree above her, and slowly, oh so slowly, she inched her way up the tree and pounced. The blue jay didn’t have time to squawk as she killed it cleanly, taking it to the other piles of prey she had buried and heading home. She had deposited her stuff at camp, but was still bored. She decided to engage in the venerable past-time of going places she wasn’t supposed to, trotting away from the gorge and toward the source of the river. The flow turned to a trickle and then stopped, as she poked her nose into the cave nearby. After her eyes had adjusted, she saw something remarkable – a cat had scratched drawings into the stone. The drawings seemed to follow a narrative, and she traced them from drawing to drawing. 

Six cats... A Twolegplace... A large river... the six cats as leaders? They seemed to be fronting a respectable enough group. Squirrelpaw allowed herself to dream of leadership, of taking command of the Clan and giving the orders and never having to do the elders’ ticks again before looking at the story again. Mountains were wedged between the two drawing she had seen earlier – at least she thought they were mountains. They may have just been hills. She looked on. That story ended there, but here were more. 

Kittypet – loses collar – fire – defeats evil – travels with cats to ThunderClan? This was telling the story of her father! Had some bored queen snuck in here and drew the pictures on the walls to serve as an aid while storytelling? 

But no, here was another. A morass of cats, more than Squirrelpaw could make out, were fighting and screeching. An arrow showed five figures towering over all, and the darker cats fleeing. Several light cats lay on the ground, but Squirrelpaw paid no mind. Was this the First Battle that the queens had talked about? 

She decided to leave, maybe share her discovery with Whitepaw, Shrewpaw, Spiderpaw and Leafpaw, when she came face to face with a skinny gray tom. He wore a blue collar, inscribed with the word “Goose”. 

“What are you doing here?” He rasped. “They are here.” 

“Who’s they? I’m Squirrelpaw, apprentice of ThunderClan.” 

“Ah yes, they told me it had been reformed. 

“Who are they?” Squirrelpaw asked, tail lashing as she got annoyed. 

“The spirits. Can’t you see them?” Squirrelpaw shook her head and Goose tutted. “They are here. And they will talk to me. I need to let it out here to make sure that their omens are not lost with me.” 

“I’ll... just go now.” 

“Oh, no.” Goose purred. “Stay.” 

For the night, she was barricaded in, half from fear and half from awe, as Goose scraped away at some of the sparse blank stone within the cave. Slowly, the drawing took place – a mountainous creature with hostile eyes. It had a cat in its mouth. 

“That is all.” Goose sighed, looking a lot better. “I know not why they torment me, only that they do. Go, child, and rest. If the spirits do to you what they do to me, you’ll need it.” 

Squirrelpaw turned tail and ran. Later, Leafpaw would inspect the cave and detect traces of StarClan, although whether the mad kittypet was really channeling them remained a mystery. It stayed a mystery, as Goose, from gossip around Twolegplace, died a day after his drawing spree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this vignette is really just to signal-boost this work for the first chap of the story, hope you don't mind.


End file.
